


Love in a Time of Calamity

by SpicyChestnut



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Divergence, Coming of Age, Coming to Terms with Loss, Drama, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Most People Live/Some People Die, Mutual Pining, Personal Growth, Political Drama, Post-Calamity Ganon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rebuilding, Recovery, Romance, Slow Burn, Trauma, Very Long Fic, long fic, saga, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-04-04 00:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 125,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14007705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyChestnut/pseuds/SpicyChestnut
Summary: Zelda awakens her powers in time to defeat Ganon, but there are still major losses. With Central Hyrule in pieces, two champions dead, a king out of commission, and half a metropolitan city turned refugees, Zelda and Link struggle to come to grips with the aftermath of the Calamity. Though neither are prepared, they must nonetheless learn to navigate a turbulent political landscape while a snooping journalist, an overzealous artist, and a power-hungry nobleman’s machinations turn their already topsy-turvy world on its head. Though the Calamity has been defeated, recovery proves a battle all its own; and that’s not even considering the battle raging in both their hearts. BoTW ZeLink AU.





	1. The Return

**Author's Note:**

> An AU/Canon Divergence where Zelda unlocks her powers and Link doesn't go to the shrine of resurrection, plus other changes and additions pulling from other Zelda games along the way. This is a long, ongoing story estimated at 200-250k words, 60-80 chapters, all organized into 7 parts. Publication began in January 2018 and, to the best of my ability, I publish a new chapter every week on Thursdays.
> 
> Tagged characters have at least moderate story importance/presence. This story is also available on fanfiction.net and Tumblr (see my profile for details).

  
**PART 1: THE RETURN OF CALAMITY GANON  
Chapter 1: The Return**

They walked in silence. Golden light from the setting sun flooded the valley beneath Mount Lanayru. Birds chirped from budding tree branches, and a cool, gentle breeze tickled Zelda's cheeks. By all accounts it was a beautiful spring evening.

But in her soul, it felt like the top of the mountain—cold and numb. This was the last spring, her spring—the spring of Nayru, her patron goddess; yet it seemed she was forsaken. She had spent every moment of every day dedicated to prayer. She had foregone so many of her own dreams and aspirations in the hope of unlocking this damned sealing power. All that effort and sacrifice! All for naught. Who knew how long they had left?

Link hadn't said a word, and she hadn't bothered to look at him—couldn't bear to. She could hear his sure, steady footsteps following closely behind her. His destiny had always been so sure. She knew in her heart she'd moved past her bitterness towards him—it wasn't his fault, he didn't choose for his destiny to be straightforward. Yet even still, she could feel resentment bubbling up inside her. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pushed it away. Unfortunately, despair only took its place.

They were nearing the East Gate marking the transition to Lanayru Road. Lifting her head to glance ahead, Zelda's stomach plummeted. There were all the champions, eagerly awaiting news that she'd unlocked her powers and their success was assured. Shame welled up inside of her, and she could feel herself trembling at the prospect of the disappointed looks on their faces when she was forced to tell them it hadn't work. She would disappoint them just as she had her father, as she had the council—as she had herself. Would they perhaps even be angry? Clenching her hands into fists, she willed her arms to stop shaking and focused on maintaining a steady gate.

Her sandaled feet echoed on the cobblestones as she approached the uneasy group, unable to meet their eyes.

Daruk was the first to approach her. His eyes were drawn, anxiety etched all over his features despite his attempts to hide it. His bushy white beard rustled as he spoke.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense. How'd everything go up there on the mountain?"

He always was straight to the point. Zelda could feel the shaking return to her limbs, and stared forward blankly into the distance, unable to turn to look at him. She wanted to say something, wanted to allay their fears and be the leader she was supposed to be; but shame and failure gripped her throat and she couldn't will herself to speak. Instead she sighed in defeat, shaking her head.

Daruk's jaw dropped, shock and desperation coloring his expression. Oh Goddesses, it was worse than she'd feared; he'd actually had faith in her, he'd truly believed… She wanted to cry, to curl up into a little ball and pretend none of this existed. Why?! What had she done so wrong?

Clenching her fists tighter, she schooled her expression and swallowed the emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

Tension charged the atmosphere at her answer, and a heavy silence descended upon them. Revali was first to break it, though his words offered no comfort: "So you didn't feel anything? No power at all?"

The hint of accusation in his tone hit her like a slap to the face; but maybe she deserved it. Their survival depended upon her, and her continued failure was risking everyone’s life. He deserved his anger; so did she. Zelda clasped her hands before her, risking the briefest of glances in his direction before bowing her head and answering softly, politely, "I'm sorry, no."

Where had she gone so wrong? She’d tried so hard, every day of her life; she’d given everything she had… but clearly, it wasn’t enough; she wasn’t enough. Everyone here had put in their time, put in the effort. Everyone here was a champion, ready to fight the Calamity. Everyone except her—she, the heir to a throne of nothing.

Urbosa's firm, authoritative voice cut through the fog of despair clouding her mind as she raised a hand to her hip for emphasis, "Then let's move on. You've done all you could. Feeling sorry for yourself won't be of any help." Turning towards the mountain, jewelry jingling, she gestured with her head in the direction of the peak, "After all, it's not like your last shot was up there on Mount Lanayru." Though still shell-shocked, Daruk nodded in agreement. "Anything could finally spark the power to seal Gannon away. We just have to keep looking for that… thing."

Head still bowed, Zelda could feel Urbosa's words restore some small sliver of hope. Her argument was that of simple logic, yes, but she suspected Urbosa knew that was what she needed most in that moment—to be reminded not to give in to despair, that she still had a job to do—that there was still time. Eyes fixed on the ground, Zelda replied softly but more firmly than before, "That's kind of you. Thank you."

Mipha briefly glanced at Link standing just behind the Princess, whose gaze was serious and inscrutable, before speaking slowly in her soft, gentle tones, "If I may…"

Her voice were kind and lacked the judgment of Revali’s. For the first time since coming down the mountain, Zelda lifted her head to look one of the Champions squarely in the eye.

"I thought you…" Mipha took two timid steps forwards, "Well, I'm not sure how to put this into words… I'm actually quite embarrassed to say it." A faint blush colored her cheeks, and she bowed her head slightly and continued, "But I was thinking about what I do when I'm healing. You know, what usually goes through my mind… " Lifting her head to meet Zelda's gaze, she offered a kind smile, "It helps when I think—when I think about L…" She stopped herself suddenly, shaking her head and blushing harder, "When I think about the people I love."

Suddenly, a fierce tremor shook the ground, sending rocks and boulders tumbling down the hillside. Zelda's eyes widened as she struggled to maintain her footing. Link's firm, gentle hand on her arm kept her from toppling to the ground, though she still struggled to remain standing. After several seconds, the rumbling ceased.

With a gust of Wind, Revali flew into the air, raking the landscape to find the source of the disturbance. Beside her, Daruk's booming voice echoed up to him, "What do you see?"

As quick as he had flown up, Revali flew back down, landing lightly on his feet. He spoke with urgency, "Strange red lightning appeared in the sky over Hyrule field, and there are landslides all over. The wind, it... doesn't feel right." Revali looked nervously to the princess, her stomach dropping like a lead weight. Revali was many things—talented, boastful, self-assured, but never nervous. "I have a feeling we are running out of time."

Any Despair Zelda had previously been feeling was quickly replaced by a frenzied anxiety. It was coming!

"Hey… Mipha gave me an idea!" boomed Daruk, turning to face her and drawing her attention away from her rising panic, "Why don't you and the little guy visit your mother in Castle Town! I know you mentioned once how much she meant to you, and it's from her you inherited this sealing power, right? And I'll bet in all this you haven't had much of a chance to think about your loved ones. Maybe that will spark something!"

Tongue tied with too many emotions, Revali beat Zelda to a response.

"Well… I guess it is a plan, something the princess hasn't tried before—and all conventional options have been exhausted."

Zelda's gaze swept across the transformed faces of her friends before her. Daruk's idea had given them hope—a direction; determination. That was all she needed to see.

"I'll do it."

She had to do something, and it might as well be this.

"It's settled," Urbosa announced, her bracelets jangling as she gestured to the Princess and her knight. "You two head out. Travel quickly. The rest of us will head back to our divine beasts. I suspect it won't be long now."

  
-:-:-:-:-:-  


"Hyah!"

Zelda urged her horse onward, despite the aching of her muscles and the tears streaming from her eyes as the chill morning air whipped against her face. She and Link were nearly to Castle Town, having ridden straight through the night. She hadn't bothered to change out of her prayer dress, instead opting to grit her teeth through the discomfort of riding side-saddle. Link had been willing to wait for her to change into her riding clothes, but Zelda refused, accepting only the offer of his Hylian cloak from his saddlebags for the journey to the Castle Town graveyard. She had failed to unlock her sealing power and time was rapidly dwindling. The fate of her people were worth the bruises later if it bought her the time she needed.

The sun's early morning rays cast a dazzling blue-hued light over a dewy Hyrule Field. The roads were relatively empty, with only the occasional traveler gawking as the Princess and her appointed knight flew past, the heavy breathing of their horses mingling with the thundering of their hooves.

As Link and Zelda approached Lon Lon Ranch another tremor, this one stronger than the last, rumbled through Hyrule Field. Both horses whinnied in protest, stumbling and slowing in their strides but managing to stay upright. Already precariously seated, Zelda clung desperately to the neck of her stallion, glancing over to ensure Link and Epona were managing. Link had a firm grip on Epona's reins in one hand, the other grasping the saddle for support. He turned his head to meet her gaze, expression filled with concern as he observed her death grip around Flint's neck. His eyes held a question, 'Are you okay?' She nodded as best she could. After an uncomfortable number of seconds the rumbling finally stopped and the horses slowed to a standstill, panting heavily.

Zelda struggled to regain her bearings, gazing towards Castle Town as she tried to bring the trembling of her limbs under control. The walls were visible in the distance; so too were the panicked movements of the Castle Town guard, forming a perimeter around the city. After several moments, guardians began to join them, crawling their way across the field from the west, their glowing blue eyes swiveling.

Zelda pulled her gaze away from the sight and turned towards Link. "Do you think it's safe to continue on horseback?"

Link stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. "I don't know if another earthquake is likely before we reach the graveyard or not, but even if we have to slow to a trot, the horses will move faster than we will." Zelda nodded her agreement, then turned her vision to the road and flicked the reins. She risked a canter.

They rode in silence; Zelda's mind was whirling with too many thoughts to carry on a conversation anyway. What were they to do if she couldn't unlock her sealing power in time? If the texts were to be believed, her power was the final piece—arguably the most important piece—necessary to defeat Gannon.

The wisdom and understanding needed to awaken and control the legendary sealing power of the Princess of Destiny was passed through the female line of the royal family of Hyrule; but her mother's death had been sudden and unexpected, when Zelda was much to young to receive this wisdom—though plenty old enough for her death to leave a deep and painful wound upon her heart. And so her training was guided instead by the ancient texts, translated from ancient Hylian by the castle scholars; but the information had been vague and incomplete. "Prayer will unlock the power to seal Calamity Gannon," she had been told. Yet prayer had done nothing.

The graveyard loomed before them, its expansive rows of headstones and statues rolling on into the distance, dotted by trees and woven with unkempt dirt paths. All too quickly Zelda was pulling her horse to a stop before the stone archway leading to her mother's walled-off section of the graveyard. Link had already dismounted and was standing beside her with his hand extended. Wordlessly Zelda grabbed it, sliding off her saddle and onto the ground. A knot of nerves made her stomach churn. She had to have faith; It was just like Urbosa said, anything could spark her power to seal Gannon away. Closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath, she walked forward. She needed to focus.

Her mother's mausoleum was near the rear of the plot surrounded by blue nightshade—her mother's favorite flower—and shaded by a large oak tree. Sunlight illuminated a relief of the Hyrulean royal crest which graced the archway above the mausoleum's entrance, though the high walls surrounding the plot kept much of the structure in shadow. Wrought-iron gates enclosed her mother within, a small latch keeping it sealed. Zelda's chest tightened. She hadn't been here since Link had drawn the Master Sword and sealed their fates. How fitting that now, at the edge of annihilation, she should return to pay would could possibly be her final respects.

Hands on the gate, she hesitated, her doubts returning. What if this didn't work? What if she failed yet again? What if this only wasted precious time? Removing one hand, she turned slightly to see Link standing close behind her. Uncertainty etched her features, but Link's eyes held no judgment, only silent encouragement.

"There is always the chance that the next moment could change everything," he echoed quietly, repeating her word from weeks prior. For the first time since coming down the mountain, a small, genuine smile bloomed upon her face.

"Thank you, Link," she whispered. With trembling hands, she unlatched the gates and walked inside.

There were high windows on all three walls of the mausoleum decoratively filled by wrought-iron filigree, allowing in light and air but barring intruders. Despite this, the air was still and somewhat stale. Though the room was dim, Zelda could make out her mother's stone coffin, engraved with her name and the royal crest, resting in the center of the room. Nervous but determined, Zelda approached and knelt, elbows coming up to rest atop the stone surface, hands clasped. Closing her eyes, she spoke barely above a whisper.

"Mother…" she exhaled slowly, gathering her courage, "Mother, I am lost. When I was young, you told me of how grandmother could hear the voices of the spirit realm. You told me that someday your power would develop within me, as well. But…" Her voice cracked. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Mother, I have failed. I have spent every day of my life dedicated to prayer, and have achieved nothing." She subconsciously squeezed her hands tighter, feeling her fingers press tightly against her knuckles.

"It comes, Mother." A shudder passed through her. "The signs are unmistakable. Link and I, the champions… How can we possibly defeat Gannon if I am unable to seal him away?" Her eyes misted and her next words came out choked, but she forced herself to say them anyway. "I am so afraid..." And I miss you so much… She could feel a single tear trail down her cheek, but ignored it. Breathing deeply, she willed the pain in her chest away.

Gripped by a sudden urge, Zelda slowly opened her eyes and glanced briefly over her shoulder to see Link standing guard before the gates of the mausoleum, back to her with the sheathed Master Sword resting vertically atop the stone floor of the mausoleum entrance—just as he'd been as she prayed at the springs of wisdom, courage, and power. She felt a brief flutter before pushing it away and refocusing her attention on her prayer.

In a clearer voice, she continued, "Mother, I pray for your guidance. I have given every ounce of prayer and dedication to the Goddess, yet my pleas remain unanswered. I know not what I have done wrong, but you are all I have left. I beg you—please, help me."

As sudden as the others, a violent tremor shook the ground, and from the distance came an ear-splitting crack echoing across the land, as though the very heavens had been rent in two. The booming sound of thunder followed soon after. Though she had been kneeling, the force of the shaking threw her to the ground, a loud gasp escaping from her lips as her hip slammed hard into the stone floor. Zelda's heart was in her throat. Looking towards the entrance to the mausoleum Link was on all fours, Master Sword secured to his back as he made his way towards her, body lurching with each spike in vibration.

Upon reaching her, the quake stopped; but it wasn't the same as the others. A charge filled the air, electric and foreboding. Dread welled up within her as she looked to Link—he could feel it too. Link pulled himself up on one knee, extending a hand to help her stand. Though his expression was serious, his eyes gazed upon her with concern.

"Are you alright?"

Heart hammering in her chest, she wasn't sure she could trust her voice and simply nodded, accepting his proffered hand as she lifted herself onto shaky legs.

Another boom echoed across the sky, followed by another sound, fainter, slowly rising and difficult to discern through the walls of the mausoleum. Glancing towards the gates with trepidation, Zelda walked through the archway and out into the open air, Link following close behind. The sight that greeted her caused her breath to catch in her throat. In the distance above the castle bloomed thick, dark clouds pulsating with a sickly red glow, slowly expanding outward as lightning of the same eerie red discharged from the unearthly mass. One of the bolts struck the tallest tower of the castle, sending rubble tumbling to the ground. Thunder boomed again, and the very air seemed to shake with the force of it. But what caused Zelda's limbs to tremble and her heart to thud painfully against her ribcage was the massive black entity, like sulfurous smoke trailing behind an enormous, monstrous face, framed by long, thick horns with a cackling, sinister grin set beneath glowing, unforgiving eyes. It circled the castle like a cat stalking a mouse hole, awaiting the return of its prey. Opening it's giant maw, it released a blood-curdling roar. Zelda shuddered.

Now outside the protective walls of the mausoleum, Zelda registered the faint noise she'd heard from within. They were screams—the screams of her people. She felt her arms raise to her chest protectively, terror slowly filling her. A raindrop landed cold against her cheek; looking up, she could see the clouds had reached the graveyard, blocking out the growing morning light.

Turning her gaze back towards the horrifying image in the distance, she felt words leave her lips before she registered saying them.

"It's awake. Gannon, he's here. I'm not—I didn't…" Her voice was breathy and laced with panic, but her meaning clear. Her transfixed gaze was suddenly broken by her knight, who had moved in front of her, his hands gripping her shoulders.

"Princess, we need to go."

Zelda didn't respond, gazing at him with confusion as her brain struggled to process the chaos breaking out around her. More raindrops landed on her face and arms, and distantly she registered Link gently shaking her.

“Princess!”

It was here! Goddesses, it was here and she had no way of defeating it!

"Zelda!"

That got her attention. He had never called her by her name, despite spending the past several months insisting he do so. She felt that same flutter in her chest she'd had earlier, and her attention came to rest squarely on him.

"You need to leave. Head to Kakariko—The Sheikah will keep you safe." His gaze was firm and focused. If he felt any fear it was well hidden; determination and commitment to duty were all that colored his features. Suddenly things clicked into place, and she knew what she must do. Determination flooded her, strengthening her resolve and giving her courage. Squaring her shoulders, she looked at him firmly.

"No. I will not leave you to face the Calamity alone. I may not be of much use on the battlefield, but there must be something I can do."

"Princess, you can’t—"

"No, Link! I will not run and hide like some damsel in distress," she stated with finality. Though she was adamant in her decision, so too seemed he.

"Zelda," he spoke but firmly, but patiently, "You are the only heir to the throne. If something should happen to the King, you are all that's left to take his place. I cannot risk your life."

Frustration gripped her as she pulled her shoulder from his grasp and gestured with her free arm towards Castle Town. "Do you hear that? Those are the screams of my people; my people, whom I have failed," she desperately hoped he didn't notice how her voice cracked on her last word, but pushed on anyway, her volume rising with the tide of her emotions. "I refuse be so selfish as to hide from my destiny—hide from my responsibility for the safety of this Kingdom, so I can cower in the safety of Kakariko while my people die alone!"

Shock covered Link's expression, but he schooled his expression quickly, dropping his hand from her other shoulder to observe her critically.

An idea suddenly occurred to her. Turning and striding purposefully toward the saddle bag of her horse, she pulled out the Sheikah slate, opening to the page displaying the runes. Returning to where Link remained standing, she held it aloft for him to see. "I may not be able to wield a blade, but I can still be useful." Turning the screen back towards herself, she activated the Magnesis rune and levitated a shallow metal offering dish sitting before a nearby tombstone, deftly manipulating the Sheikah slate to send the bowl flying at the oak tree, embedding it in its trunk like a shuriken. She turned back to gaze at Link triumphantly, knowing she had won. In a tone that brokered no argument, she said all she was going to say on the subject: "I'm coming with you."

The rain was coming down harder now, and she struggled not to shiver as she held herself with all the authority she could muster; but there was defeat in Link's eyes. He looked at her steadily for several moments before sighing and nodding, and she felt victory bolster her resolve. But as she made to move towards her horse, he stepped in front of her barring her path, his expression steely as he held her gaze.

"If things take a turn for the worse, you must promise me you will leave and seek shelter." Zelda made to argue, but Link held firm, interrupting her before she got words out.

"No arguments. That is my condition."

Holding his gaze, she relented. It was… reasonable. "Alright, yes, agreed."

He stepped out of her way, allowing her to reach Flint and hop atop his saddle. Turning, she reached into her saddle bags and pulled forth a short length of rope, tying it around the handle of the Sheikah slate and slipping it around her neck like an over-sized pendant.

Next to her, Link had mounted Epona, his gaze on the unsettling vision of Gannon circling the castle. Another roar echoed across the plains, drowning out the sound of pattering raindrops and sending shivers up Zelda's spine. Link turned towards her, their gaze meeting. He was determined and focused, but in his eyes she could see the same thought passing trough his mind that passed through hers.

It was time to meet their destiny.


	2. Power Awakened

**PART 1: THE RETURN OF CALAMITY GANON  
Chapter 2: Power Awakened**

They hadn’t even made it out of the graveyard before needing to regroup. Beneath the dark and foreboding sky, monsters of every shape, size, and color had flooded Hyrule Field, following the roads towards the screaming residents of Castle Town and out into the far reaches of Hyrule. Every manner of beast and monster filled the grassy plain: bokoblins, moblins, stahls, Lynels, swarms of keese, lizalfos, hinoxes… More were appearing every few feet in swirls of red and black. In the short span of time they’d argued in the graveyard, Hyrule Field had been transformed into a veritable death trap. The Castle Town guard was overwhelmed, and despite a flood of soldiers pouring out into the field from the barracks and the mass of monsters guardians felled left and right, their defensive perimeter was being steadily pushed back towards the city walls.

Zelda hid within the graveyard, leaning heavily against the outer wall as she gazed skyward with weary trepidation. Rain poured down in icy droplets; she could feel them landing on her cheeks and trickling down her face and shoulders, soaking her prayer dress and causing it to cling uncomfortably to her skin. The moment she’d come within view of the field, her heart had started pounding furiously and it hadn’t yet stopped. She had known the coming of Calamity Ganon would herald, well, calamity… but she hadn’t pictured much outside of Ganon itself, let alone that she may be faced with such a massive obstacle as the one before her simply to reach it.

Link was peering cautiously around the archway to survey the field. After several silent moments, he pulled his head back to rest against the wall, turning to Zelda appraisingly.

“Do you have experience with weapons of any kind?” Link asked, making to move towards Epona who stood with Flint beneath a nearby tree. Zelda nodded, clearing her throat with difficulty.

“I… I was taught the basics of how to wield a dagger after my mother’s death.”

Link began digging through his saddle bags before producing a small, sheathed blade attached to a leather belt. Returning to her side, he extended it towards her.

“Just in case.”

She tried to hide the trembling in her hands as she grasped the handle, making to pull it to her, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Grabbing the hand she had wrapped around the dagger, Link stilled the trembling of her hand with his own. Lowering his head slightly, he caught her eye.

“You don’t have to do this.”

Zelda held his gaze, seeing in his steadfast resolve her own failure atop Mount Lanayru, at all of the shrines, and in her daily prayers and devotions. Steadying herself, she pulled her hand free, dagger in tow.

“Yes, I do.”

Looking down, she avoided the intensity in his eyes, wrapping the leather strap around her waist so the hilt of the dagger was within an easy arm’s reach. Goddesses willing it wouldn’t come to that.

Link stepped away, moving to peek beyond the archway once more, but the moment his head became visible a loud horn sounded nearby. Link tensed, pulling back and turning his head quickly in her direction while unsheathing the Master Sword.

“Stay back.”

No sooner had the words left his lips before the lead bokoblin with horn in hand stumbled into the graveyard, feet slapping along the wet dirt. Head turning rapidly in search of its prey, it had only just spotted them when, swiftly and silently, Link leapt into the air, Master Sword held above his head. The bokoblin barely had a moment to blink as, with incredible strength and speed, Link brought the sword down on its head, splitting its skull with a sickening crunch and landing deftly on his feet. Pausing long enough to take a single breath, he spun once launching the sword straight at the next bokoblin, embedding itself in the center of its chest. Sprinting forward, he pulled the sword free of the stunned monster, and spun again in a large circle, sword arm extended, slicing two deep, horizontal gouges into the third bokoblin as it ran in through the archway.

Zelda stood, stunned, leaning against the graveyard wall. He had just killed three bokoblins in a matter of seconds. She had never seen Link fight, not really. Sure, she’d seen him in the practice yards a handful of times, and she’d been present when he’d killed that Yiga in the desert—something she didn’t think she could ever forget; but it was nothing like this. Her stunned reverie was broken by the sound of a sudden pop as the three bokoblin corpses disappeared in a a puff of black smoke, the only evidence of their presence the dark blood which stained the ground.

Suddenly, overhead, a massive red beam appeared in the sky with a loud hiss, striking the inky aura Gannon’s presence had slowly created around the castle. It let loose a deafening cry, prompting Zelda to pull her hands up to cover her ears, grimacing. Though her view was obstructed somewhat by the walls of the graveyard, following the source of the beam north-east with her eyes, it suddenly registered in her mind what it was; Vah Ruta—Mipha! A surge of hope bolstered Zelda’s courage. Maybe they could still do this after all.

Tearing her gaze away from the beam to look at Link, she saw he too had noticed. Eyes on her, he offered her a brief, heartening smile before returning to the task at hand.

Link sheathed the Master Sword, relaying their next steps, “It looks like the majority of Gannon’s forces which haven’t already left the field are heading towards Castle Town. With the guards and guardians occupying their attention, we should be able to head in that direction largely unnoticed until we near the city. Stay close and watch your surroundings. Once we reach the city, stay away from the battle and stay on your horse. I’ll cut a path through and when I do, run behind the defensive perimeter. Do you understand?”

It took a few seconds for Zelda to process all of what he’d said. Vaguely the thought occurred to her that he would make a great general—if they made it out of this alive, anyway. That thought sobered her. She nodded firmly, moving towards Flint and hopping into the Saddle. With a leap, Link mounted Epona and positioned himself at the entrance to the graveyard. Zelda placed herself directly beside him.

Link reached for his bow and quiver strapped to his saddle bag, slipping the quiver on his back and keeping his bow in hand. Speaking over his shoulder as he prepared himself, he gave his final instructions, “On my mark, we go. Push flint for all he’s worth. The longer we stay in the open, the higher the chance of drawing attention.”

Her heart was beating a hole through her chest. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded distant and faraway when she responded, “On your mark.”

Link turned briefly in his saddle to look over at her fully. Catching her eye, his gaze was intense but inscrutable for the brief few seconds he looked at her; she felt like a specimen under a microscope, a faint flush creeping up her cheeks. Turning forward, he leaned into his saddle, one hand gripping the reins while the other gripped his bow. “On the count of three.”

Tension filled her from head to toe.

“One.”

Zelda’s palms began to sweat as her grip on Flint’s reins tightened.

“Two.”

Her heart leapt into her throat.

“Three!”

She leaned forward, flicking the reins and digging her heels into Flint’s side, hard. Like lightning, both horses raced forward, hooves squelching in the mud.

Wind whipped at her face as she squinted her eyes trying to keep the rain from obscuring her vision. However, the sight which greeted her as she galloped toward the city made her wish she could see less. Fires dotted the field around Castle Town, despite the rain, embers floating into the air like red fireflies. Piles of bodies littered the ground around the outer wall, having been dragged from the battle by comrades; figures clad in Hyrulean blue, tunics stained red. The writhing corpses of bokoblins and moblins, wounded but not yet dead, littered the field. Near the south-eastern corner of the city wall, a guardian locked its laser onto a hinox which was running towards it with an uprooted tree in hand and releasing a feral roar. With a blast the guardian knocked the Hinox back twenty feet, its tree exploding in a burst of fire and wood shrapnel. In the distance Ganon circled the castle, and Zelda watched in horror as it veered suddenly into the astronomy tower, sending a tremendous crunching sound echoing across the field as the top of the tower crumbled into the moat.

Wrenching her eyes from the sight, Zelda looked forward to see Link sitting up in his saddle, reins resting against Epona’s neck as he swiveled, firing off arrow after arrow, every one hitting its mark between the eyes of bokoblins, moblins, and lizalfos.

Suddenly, overhead, another red beam appeared in the sky with a hiss, striking Gannon. It let loose another screech, making Zelda cringe. Arching her head to follow the beam southward with her eyes, it seemed to come from the direction of the Gerudo Desert. Vah Nabooris—Urbosa! Inwardly, Zelda cheered. They were doing it!

So far she and Link had remained largely unnoticed in the wet, smoky chaos of the field, but they were quickly approaching the heart of the battle along the defensive perimeter of the southern gate into Castle Town. The sounds of clanging metal, the thumps of shields on flesh, and guttural battle cries reached her ears as the front line loomed. The sight alone from across the field had been horrifying, but up close, where she could see the faces of her soldiers scrunch up in pain with every wound and hear the banshee cries of the monsters as they ran her men through… She wrenched her eyes away in an effort to keep bile from rising to her throat. She needed to focus if she was to get out of this alive.

Link, having slipped his bow over his shoulder, turned briefly to shout behind him, “Stop on my mark!”

Zelda didn’t bother to reply, too overwhelmed with the sights and sounds around her and struggling to remain focused on the task at hand. Not but a few moments after his command, he raised his arm at a 90 degree angle, hand in a fist, and shouted. Zelda pulled hard on the reins, but Link didn’t follow suit. Instead, he pulled himself up into his saddle, Epona still galloping pell-mell towards the the battle before the gate, then back-flipped gracefully off the mare’s back, pulling his bow from his shoulder faster than she could track and firing two arrows in rapid succession before landing lightly on his feet, knees bent and arms outstretched. As he stood, two bokoblins she hadn’t noticed running at her from the right fell forward, arrows sticking out from between their eyes. How had he even seen that? Unsheathing the Master Sword, Link darted forward into the fray.

The near-miss sent fear and adrenalin coursing through her. Willing herself to ignore the way her heart pounded in her ears, she grabbed her Sheikah slate and surveyed the battle field in search of something she could do or use to help. She had insisted on coming, now she needed to prove her worth. It only took a moment before she spotted it: wooden shipping crates sat in a pile outside the city gate, and right next to them sat a large, shining silver chest. She quickly activated the magensis rune, lifting the chest off the ground and searching for a target. Finding one, she sent the chest hurtling at the head of large hinox making its way up the battle field. It hit home with a sickening crunch. The beast tripped and face-planted in the mud, all movement ceasing.

Elation bubbled up within her. She had done it! She wasn’t useless after all! Fueled by her victory, she selected the magnesis rune again and lifted the chest from the ground. Emboldened by her success, she swung it before her in a wide, distant arc, knocking bokoblins and stahls off their feet; then she swung it back, lower this time, smashing into each of their heads. One by one the monsters disappeared in a puff of black smoke. Victory again!

In her battle-high euphoria, she didn’t notice how her unsubtle display had attracted the attention of a group of bow-wielding stahlkoblins. Focusing on trying to set her magnesis target, she was suddenly overshadowed by Link jumping over her head from the left of her horse, shield raised as he sailed above her. The dull thump of arrows resounded against his shield as he landed light on his feet. As he reached the ground Flint reared back, whinnying, throwing Zelda off and into the mud with a thump. Dazed, she looked up trying to grasp what had just happened. A trail of red dripped down her steed’s snow-white haunch where an arrow protruded as, eyes wide and nostrils flared, Flint took off galloping across the field.

The noise of battle echoed all around her as she pulled herself to her knees, heart pounding and head spinning. Another near miss. Damnit, she couldn’t get anything right! Link quickly approached, eying her with concern. He knelt before her, offering his hand.

“Did you get hit?”

Zelda sought out his eyes—familiar pools of blue in a tide of blood. Shaking her head she accepted his hand, trying to rid herself of morbid thoughts.

“No, I… I’m fine.”

Suddenly Link went flying, a blur of gray scales knocking him off his feet. In his place before her stood a tall, striped silver Lizalfos, tongue dangling from its mouth as it eyed its target sprawled across the ground. Zelda stared wide-eyed, heart pounding, too stunned to move. It seemed to suddenly notice her presence, turning to face her as it reached for a polearm off its back.

“Zelda!”

Link’s voice brought life to her locked-up limbs as, without thinking, she reached for her dagger.

“Hold it firmly by the handle, angle your wrist just so… lock your elbow, there, like that…” her old tutor’s voice floated to the fore of her mind as her body performed the maneuvers she’d been forced to master over the months that followed her mother’s assassination all those years ago. Fueled by panic and fear, she quickly darted forward before the Lizalfos had a chance to position its much larger weapon, stabbing hard and deep where the jugular would have been on a hylian target—that was, after all, what she’d been trained to fight. Dark blood spurted forward, coating her hands as the monster’s eyes widened in shock. Pulling back and tightening her grip against the slick substance, she strafed to the side, stabbing again into the monster’s side, ripping across its stomach. The monster howled in pain, dropping its polearm and leaping backwards, clutching its side and stalking her slowly, at a safer distance. Suddenly she heard a shout as Link came flying from her left, taking the monster by surprise. In one fluid motion he raised the Master Sword, decapitating it. Its head rolled away, as its body slowly slumped to the ground before disappearing in a puff of black smoke.

Zelda stared at where the monster had been, her brain slowly catching up to what she had just done. She felt the dagger slip from her hands as she looked down, noticed for the first time the dark blood coating her hands, slowly being washed away by the rain. She was shaking, her breathing erratic. What had she done?

A hand gently grabbed her shoulder and she started, looking up with startled eyes to see Link staring at her intently.

“Are you alright?”

Before she could answer, a hissing noise sliced through the air, followed by another vicious howl as Gannon’s jaws went wide with rage. Zelda cringed as the sound echoed in her eardrums, turning to look towards the Castle. Link followed suit. She could see a third red beam firing on Gannon, this one coming from the North. Vah Rudania—Daruk! However, she’d barely had a chance to register this victory before the beam from Vah Ruta hissed and disappeared. Zelda looked to Link in alarm. His gaze was focused on the castle, eyes hard. Vah Ruta was Mipha’s divine beast. If the beam had disappeared, did that mean…?

Suddenly, a sickly red smoke began to seep from Ganon’s slowly stretching maw. Zelda watched, transfixed by the unearthly sight; Link followed the scene with wary trepidation beside her. It slithered through the sky above Castle Town until reaching the front line. Link stepped in front of Zelda then, extending his hand and pushing her behind him. Hovering above the fighting, it was then that the smoke was sucked suddenly into the guardians interspersed between the Castle Town guard, like smoke up a chimney. As suddenly as it had entered into the machines, so too did the guardians cease all movement, eyes coming to a halt as their blue glow slowly faded to red.

The Castle Town guard was too busy fighting to notice the change in their counterparts until it was too late. Eyes swiveling, the machines turned their beams on the soldiers as one, and, with a synchronized ticking echoing through the field, every guardian fired upon them. Their bodies went flying, some on fire, some in pieces, landing unceremoniously on the perimeter wall and in heaps across the field. The guardians began charging, making to fire again.

Link suddenly turned, grabbing Zelda’s hand tightly and taking off in the opposite direction pulling her with him.

“Run!”

Zelda could hear a ringing in her ears, cold disbelief settling over her like the chill of the rain. She let herself be pulled along, sandaled feet slapping along the soggy ground, gaze unable to turn from the destruction before the gate. The guardians were climbing over the Castle Town walls now, firing upon the city. Screams echoed from within.

Her mind was numb. They had been turning the tide! They’d almost made it through to the gate, until… Her mind struggled to comprehend the mass slaughter that had just occurred. Gone, all of them… Surely some had families, children… Her chest tightened in pain and black spots appeared in her vision—with a sudden gasp, she realized she hadn’t been breathing.

“Zelda!”

Whipping her head around from the horrifying scene behind her to face Link, it became clear he’d been trying to get her attention. Seeing he finally had it, he shouted, panting as he spoke.

“Don’t look at it; just… keep moving.”

So this was it, then. They had failed, and now all that was left was to run and hide from the big bad wolf and hope it never found them. The city shrunk behind them as a copse of trees loomed ahead. Link made for the cover, and Zelda struggled to keep up as he began darting around trunks and underbrush. A stitch formed in her side and, slipping on the mud in her flat sandals, her wet hand slipped through his and she fell to the ground with a gasp, landing on her hands and knees.

Link slowed and backtracked, coming to stand before her; but Zelda couldn’t bring herself to rise. Her limbs ached, and a penetrating horror filled her being. It was over. They’d lost. Years of preparation for this moment had still not been enough. She had failed… everyone. Sensing his presence, she spoke her despair, voice hollow and broken.

“How? How did it come to this?

Link didn’t answer, but moved to kneel before her.

“The guardians… they’ve all turned against us. Calamity Gannon, it… it turned them all against us!” She took a shuddering breath, lifting her head to meet Link’s serious expression. Feeling her throat constrict, she knew she couldn’t stop the emotions rising within her; couldn’t bear to face him. lifting her muddied hands, she covered her face. “It’s all my fault!” she sobbed, “Our only hope for defeating Ganon is lost all because I couldn’t harness this cursed power!”

She let out a shuddering gasp. “Everything—everything I have done up until now… It was all for nothing!” Feeling despair and rage and frustration rise within her, she viciously pulled her hands down and shouted at Link, brows drawn and eyes streaming with tears.

“So I really am just a failure!”

Another sob echoed after her proclamation, but the flurry of emotions had died down, leaving her feeling empty.

“My friends… my Kingdom… my father most of all… I tried, and I failed them! I left them…” Her voice came out as barely a whisper, images of the mangled bodies of her Kingdom’s soldiers floating vividly in her mind, “All to die.”

Her eyes were red-rimmed, hollow, gazing at link with a soul-deep despair. Sorrow filled her being completely, and she could feel her chest tightening at how hopeless the situation had become. There was no chance of victory, now; this was the end. Uncaring of royal protocol or the fact that they were both soaking wet and sitting in mud mid-flight not far from a raging battle field, she launched herself at link, letting the sobs loose like howls upon the wind. She distantly registered surprise as he embraced her tightly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and gently pulling her into his chest. The visceral feeling of his kindness, his tenderness after the horrors which had filled the day burst the damn and she sobbed freely into his chest, letting her despair wash over her in waves. She didn’t know how long she’d clung to him—it couldn’t have been too long, given what was going on around them—but when finally her tears had run dry, she tentatively pulled her face up to look at him. She expected indifference or impatience or stoicism, but instead he looked upon her with gentleness despite the tension which still shone in his eyes. Leaning forward, he softly gripped her wet shoulders, slowly sliding his hands down to her elbows.

“Zelda.” The way he said her name sent shivers up her spine that had nothing to do with the rain.

“We do not choose our fate; nor do we choose how our fate will unfold. And sometimes… sometimes one path is infinitely harder than another.”

Lifting his hand, he gently brushed away a wet strand of hair that clung to her forehead before continuing, brow furrowed but eyes kind. His words were slow and deliberate.

“I don’t blame you for this. You have given everything you could—so I do not think you a failure. Even though things look bleak, I will keep fighting; for you, and for Hyrule.”

His hand had settled on her bare shoulder, a fact Zelda was acutely aware of. Her her heart clenched painfully, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. His words touched her deeply, stirring something in her she had not known was there. Her eyes were lost in his twin pools of blue—the rain, the battle, all forgotten as his words embedded themselves in her heart. She reached out a hand towards his face…

Suddenly, a whirring sound reached her ears, and the moment was broken. Link tensed, standing quickly and bringing Zelda to rise with him. Turning to face the source of the noise, she spotted it: crawling quickly across the field, eye trained upon them and body glowing red, was a guardian.

“Zelda, run.”

Link moved in front of her, unsheathing the Master Sword; but she remained still, immobilized by a sudden overwhelm of fear and guilt. The guardians were designed to face off against Ganon—they were extremely powerful weapons. If Link didn’t flee with her, he would surely die just as the guards had, chosen hero or not…

Link turned briefly to face her, his expression hard as he placed himself in a defensive stance between her and the approaching beast. “Zelda, Run!”

Fear welled within her and she took several steps back, watching with wide eyes as the guardian wove its way through the trees towards them. Far too soon it was upon them both, a ticking sound echoing off the trees as it aimed its eye on Link.

“Link!”

Just in time, he dove out of the way, rolling to the side. The grass where Link had been standing moments before erupted into flames, and Zelda pulled her arm in front of her face to protect her eyes from embers and flying chunks of dirt. Feeling the heat of the flames upon her face brought her back to her senses and she dove for safety behind the trunk of a large tree, panting heavily with exertion and fear. Link had pulled his bow off his shoulder and knocked an arrow, sending it flying into the guardian’s eye—but it seemed to have little effect.

The ticking started again, but this time Link was too slow. While he missed getting a direct blow, he was too close to the blast site and was sent flying into the trunk of a tree, his torso and head hitting with a resounding crack.

Zelda nearly stopped breathing.

“Link!”

The guardian was on the move again, having finally noticed Zelda now that his primary target was no longer a distraction. Link struggled to pull himself up from the ground, leaning on his sword for support. As the guardian approached her, Link dragged himself in front of her, placing himself between her and the guardian. He was wheezing and blood dripped steadily from the back of his head, staining his blond hair red. Panic seized her as she realized what he was trying to do: sacrifice his life for hers. She grabbed his shoulders anxiously, speaking rapidly and stepping slightly to the side to see his face. His pupils were different sizes.

“Link, save yourself—go! I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. Run!”

Without a word, Link shot his arm out, using the last of his strength to try and push her behind him as he leaned heavily upon his sword. Glancing up at the guardian, she saw it’s eye lock on and prepare to fire, the same ticking noise echoing off the trees as a red dot appeared in the center of his chest.

It suddenly hit her like a hinox: Link was going to die. But he couldn’t die… He just… It wasn’t possible. He had become a fixture, a constant… Life didn’t make sense without him in it, anymore. This just… wasn’t possible. She refused to let it be possible.

“NO!”

Without thinking, as if gripped by some deep, unknowable instinct, she jumped in front of him, arm outstretched.

A set of three golden triangles appeared on the back of her hand, glowing white, as a blinding light burst forth from her hand, expanding outward in a golden sphere before bursting like a bubble. A pillar of light extended skyward from her being, surrounding her, before slowly dimming into nothingness. Then, all was still.

The Guardian had stopped moving, making a whirring, clinking noise, its head spinning and spinning. Then, it collapsed on the ground in a heap with a loud thump.

Zelda stared before her, dumbfounded, brain struggling to comprehend what had just happened.

“Was… was that… the power?” she whispered reverently, slowly bringing her hand before her shocked face to observe the well-known symbol that now adorned the back of her hand.

Behind her, she heard a thump. Turning quickly on her heel, she saw Link on his hands and knees upon the ground. Her heart skipped a beat.

“No… No!”

Dropping to her knees before him, she grabbed him by the shoulders just as his arms gave out. He seemed to be pulsing with a very faint, golden glow, but in her fear and confusion, she failed to notice.

“Link… Link!”

His head lolled forward briefly before slowly, so slowly, he lifted it to meet her frightened gaze. His eyes were clear and focused, if confused, and, thank the goddesses, his pupils were the same size!

“Link!” she choked, burying her head in his neck and holding him tightly.

“What… what happened?” His voice was groggy, but very much cogent. Pulling away, she met his confused expression with a slow-building smile.

“I did it,” she whispered, wrapping her arm under his neck. When he continued to stare at her blankly, she raised her right hand, turning it so he could see the faintly glowing triangles that now adorned the back of her hand. His eyes widened in shock. He looked from her hand to her face, a smile growing as he did so.

With her help, Link shifted to a kneeling position. Pulling back a bit, she leaned onto the balls of her feet, assessing his condition. “Can you stand?” she asked, now offering him her hand for the first time that day. Link nodded, accepting and pulling himself up.

He looked around the clearing, at the destruction caused by the guardian and at its corpse lying limply in the grass. Turning to Zelda, he slowly raised his hand in offering. They both knew what they needed to do. She met his gaze with confidence. They could do this.

“Are you ready?”

Zelda smiled, the triforce adorning her hand pulsing brightly as her hand came to rest in his. Joy surged through her as she spoke her next words, words she’d longed to be able to say since the day he drew the Master Sword.

“I’m ready.”


	3. Blood of the Goddess

**PART 1: THE RETURN OF CALAMITY GANON  
Chapter 3: Blood of the Goddess**

The guardian came to a standstill, head whirring, before slumping to the ground with a thump as red smoke dissipated out of the top of the machine. Though they now patrolled Hyrule Field like ants on a forgotten picnic, their trek back through Hyrule field had been relatively unhampered. They continued on, side-by-side, heading north along the road to Castle Town.

Zelda felt different; lighter and heavier at the same time. She could feel the power moving through her like a river. It had been barely perceptible when she’d stopped the guardian from killing Link, but the closer she got to the castle, the more rapid and turbulent the flow became within her; like a river in spring fresh with snow melt. But more than that, she felt… opened, as though all this time she’d had cotton in her ears and now everything sounded sharper and clearer. It was like a sixth sense made manifest: she could feel things upon the wind she’d never noticed before—energies undulating upon the breeze, invisible presences made known to her.

The perimeter wall of Castle Town loomed and with it, an echoing sense of fear and sorrow—sharp and painful, yet somehow muted. Before the sealed southern gate monsters which earlier had battled the castle guard, now unimpeded, pounded their fists angrily upon the tall, metal gate demanding entrance. Others made to climb the walls, but slid and tumbled down the sides as the rain-slicked stone impeded their progress.

As they neared, several monsters turned in notice, shouting to their companions and pointing in their direction. Zelda raised her hand, letting forth another burst of light, this time gentle waves expanding outward, pulsating in regular intervals like a heartbeat. The monsters recoiled, stumbling over each other in their haste to retreat. Zelda moved forward with Link trailing behind her, driving the beasts away. Yet as she drew closer, the earlier sensation of fear and sorrow washed over her again, this time like a tidal wave, causing her to stumble in her stride. Over the din of the monsters scuffling and shouting to escape her power, she could hear faint voices: whispers, prayers, pleas…

“Goddesses, please, watch over Maren and the children …”

“I’m not ready to die… please, I’m not ready—”

“In the name of the three, may my sins be absolved. In the name of the three…”

“Mother, Father, I’m so sorry for all the lost years. I should never have enlisted…”

She paid no notice as the monsters’ number thinned before them; her head was spinning with so many voices—desperate, scared, full of regret. Despite the rain, she could feel her tears as they trailed down her face, sorrow overwhelming her. She struggled to keep her power active and her stride steady as she approached the gate, the last of the monsters retreating across the field. As she looked around her, at the bodies littering the battlefield, it dawned on her with horrified understood what she was hearing and to whom the voices belonged. Lowering her hand, she stopped the flow of power.

She turned her head towards Link, eyes wide as tears streamed freely from her eyes, her throat almost too tight to speak. He moved towards her, concern and confusion etching his features as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Zelda, what—”

“I can hear them,” she whispered hoarsely, gaze a million miles away.

Link looked at her in confusion.

“Link,” she said, stronger this time, slowly turning her head to focus her gaze on his, “I—I hear them—their voices…” She moved forward, gaze sweeping over the bodies around her in horror. Stepping towards the figure of a man crumpled against the gate, moblin spear protruding from his gut, she knelt down in the mud, hand glowing as she cupped his lifeless cheek. She could feel his soul still trapped within his body, held from passing by the weight of unfinished business in this life—could hear his final thoughts echoing in her mind.

“I loved you, Sari. I never told you—Goddesses, I wish I had…”

Grief—harsh and white-hot—overwhelmed her, and what she did next she did by without thinking, by some unknown instinct. Stepping back slowly and raising her hand, she recited a traditional funeral rite, her voice echoing with unearthly resonance as she spoke:

“By the will of the Three are we born of their love.  
By guidance of the Three do we live in harmony.  
By decree of the Three, when our time is through, do we return to the silent realm anew.  
May the Three greet you at journey’s end:  
Din from whose power came the land;  
Nayru from whose wisdom came order of strife;  
Farore from whose courage came all life.  
To them your soul do we release.  
In tenderness and truth, find peace.”

All around her the bodies of the fallen began to faintly glow, the light from her hand pulsating in rhythm. Pale blue wisps, ethereal and transparent, rose from them, floating slowly towards the heavens before fading into the sky like wisps of smoke. For a moment, all was still. Lowering her hand, Zelda smiled softly. The clamor of voices was gone. Turning to Link, she found him staring at her in ill-disguised awe.

“Princess! Master Link!”

The exclamation startled them both, drawing attention to the tiny guard room window set into the wall to the right of the gate. The face of a balding, middle-aged man greeted them.

“Princess, it is you! I thought I’d heard your voice, but it was so loud and strange, I thought it couldn’t be, but then Martel said…”

Link stepped forward interrupting the diatribe. She recognized the man, of more specifically, his overly-exuberant manner: Barlow, a member of the royal guard.

“Barlow, we need to get to the castle. Open the gate.”

Barlow offered a small salute, raising a bandaged hand up to his sweaty forehead. “You got it, Master Link!” Turning around and shouting into the depths of the guard station, his booming voice echoed out the small window. “OPEN THE GATES! THE PRINCESS AND THE HERO ARE HERE!” Hoots, hollers, and cheers echoed from inside the station in response, causing Zelda to fidget self-consciously.

The gates creaked open revealing a devastating scene within. At least half of Castle Town lay in ruin, destroyed by the rogue guardians. Stone rubble, charred wooden beams, and cracked blue tiles littered the once-pristine streets as buildings smoldered, sending their embers floating into the sky like red fireflies. Tentatively, Zelda stepped through the gate and into the broken city. Link walked beside her, senses tuned for any sign of danger. With the monsters at the gate now gone, the city was silent save for the crackle of burning wood and the steady patter of rain. Though seemingly devoid of life, looking more closely Zelda could see faces peering from behind the curtained windows of still-standing structures and from beneath the wooden doors of cellars. She felt her heart lift; there were survivors!

As they neared Central Square, Zelda found the reason for the silent, empty streets: rogue guardians patrolled the thoroughfares, eyes swiveling in search of those they hadn’t yet killed. The Central Square fountain was missing its central flute, gurgling as water bubbled up from the exposed piping, overflowing into the fountain’s base. Exchanging a brief glance with Link, the two silently approached using the noise of the fountain as cover. They weren’t spotted.

It was time. Walking around the fountain to the side facing the castle entrance, Zelda raised her hand yet again. Eyes focused ahead of her, she said softly, “Draw your sword, Link.” Once his sword was in hand, she let instinct take over, sending forth a burst of light. Unlike before she felt the power surge rapidly forth, cascading throughout her entire being and breaking upon her like a crashing ocean wave. Gone were her fears. All that mattered—all that was, in that moment—was the task of destroying Ganon.

The light was blinding, a sphere of pure energy growing, expanding outward until it encompassed all of Castle Town and the castle itself. The floating, ghastly presence that was Ganon roared, feral and guttural, twisting and turning in an attempt to outrun the light, but was quickly consumed. The whirring and clinking of the guardians prowling Castle Town as they were released of Ganon’s hold dimly reached her ears, but was overpowered by the pounding of her heart and the rush of power flowing through her being.

As the sphere of light reached the edges of the moat it stopped, pulsating brightly like a supernova. Suddenly, overhead, the red beam from Vah Nabooris disappeared, a thick beam of bright blue light shooting forth in its place, blazing across the sky to pierce where Zelda held Ganon captive with a loud blast. Not moments later, the red beam from Vah Rudania disappeared as well, sending the same beam of blue light shooting across the distance to strike at Ganon. He released another bellowing cry, and Zelda took that as her cue to begin closing the magic in around him. The sphere of light grew smaller, passing through the rear of the castle as it came to consolidate, floating above the ramp leading to the castle bridge before them. The light pulsed once, then slowly dimmed, and from within its protective cocoon a mass of black and red sludge dropped from the sky to land on the ground with a sickening schlopp. A large circular lump occupied the center of the mass which twitched and pulsed like some demonic egg sac. Zelda stared in disgust. She had been trusting some deep instinct within her, allowing it to guide her actions, but she wasn’t entirely sure what she had done or what she was seeing now.

“Malice,” a mellifluous voice whispered in Zelda’s mind, giving name to the thing before her, “Malice is its protective hide, its shield from the light. You have weakened it, daughter, but soon it will burst forth from its cocoon in full form. Be ready.” She didn’t question where the voice came from, or who it belonged to. She knew.

Turning to link, she looked at him resolutely. “It is time, Link.” He turned to face the writhing mass, tightening his grip on the Master Sword, a look of determination and focus coloring his features. Briefly, the image of him bruised and bloodied in the copse of trees in Hyrule Field entered her mind. For the first time since approaching Castle Town, the intense focus and sense of duty which had pervaded her being was pierced by fear of what Link was about to face, and what could happen if he failed. Without thinking, she reached her hand gently towards the Master Sword, the triforce glowing on the back of her hand as Link eyed her sidelong with curiosity. With one finger, she touched the flat of the blade and light infused the metal. It to glowed softly, illuminating Link’s face. Stepping back, she looked to him with a soft smile.

“Fight well, Link.”


	4. The Battle for Hyrule

**Part 1: THE RETURN OF CALAMITY GANON  
Chapter 4: The Battle for Hyrule  
**

Raindrops dripped down Link’s face as he stepped forward cautiously, Master Sword held aloft and glowing in the receding early evening light. No one knew what form the calamity was to take, and though Link hadn’t given it much thought, he certainly hadn’t expected… this. This couldn’t be it, could it?

The lump in the center gave a sudden lurch, light piercing through the sac like dappled sunlight. Reaching a breaking point it exploded outward, dissipating into heavy black smoke as a giant, monstrous creature was birthed of the mass. Its head was small with wild, mismatched, glowing yellow eyes set into sinewy black skin above a sinister, toothy grin. A long ginger beard hung haphazardly from its chin, resting upon a muscled chest. Its hair stuck out in all directions atop its head. Mismatched arms gave the creature a distinctly lopsided appearance, one arm thick and muscled, the other thin and reedy.

Though its upper body was humanoid, its lower body was spider-like: six mechanistic legs supported a thick, oblong abdomen from which additional arms sprouted. Each was its own weapon: from one, a giant flaming axe melted seamlessly into its sinewy black forearm; another ended in a hand gripping a long, translucent blue polearm; from yet another grew long claws in the place of nails, the same translucent blue; and others sported short swords and clicking scissor-like blades.

It struck an unnerving chord within Link: too much of it looked humanoid for it to seem like just a beast, yet too much of it was bestial to look truly humanoid. It was surreal—a corruption of the natural order.

As Ganon’s eyes narrowed on Link, he was momentarily blinded by light and deafened by a howling shriek as Zelda’s magic erupted from behind him, piercing Ganon’s flesh. As the light began to dim, Link heard Zelda’s voice—different, more ethereal and too soft to have been able to be heard over all the noise. It was almost like it was resonating only in his head…?

“I’ve taken it by surprise; Strike now, Link!”

Link didn’t need telling twice. Tightening his grip on the master sword, he lunged forward to where Ganon’s head was lolling in a daze and struck hard, slicing across its cheek in a flurry of strikes. The blows seemed to do little, leaving mere scratches on its skin.

As Gannon came to its senses, Link jumped back, circling the half-man half-beast looking for another opening. Ganon had turned a furious gaze on Link, making to strike with its axe-hand. Link lunged to the side narrowly avoiding the fiery appendage and the flames it sent bursting forth from the powerful impact as it struck the muddy ground. No sooner had Link gotten to his feet than Ganon had pulled back its axe and thrown its polearm; Link barely avoided it in a hurried lunge backwards. Lifting one of its rear legs, Link noticed the thick blocky foot was actually the casing for a miniature guardian laser, a realization made in just enough time to raise his shield in defense as it let off a blast of energy.

Upon impact Link went flying backwards, struggling to gather his wits in time to land on his feet. He didn’t remain in one spot for long. Zig-zagging his way forward as he avoided more blasts, link rushed, spotting an opening and thrusting the Master Sword forward into its torso. This seemed to have a greater effect as the strike was met with a loud screech; but Ganon recovered quickly, jumping into the air and slamming its body onto the ground with a resounding thump. Link was sent sprawling by the force of the impact, Master Sword embedding itself in the mud 20 feet away.

He felt dazed, black spots filling his vision which he quickly tried to shake away, struggling to focus on the fight. Link clumsily rose to his feet and darted towards the master sword, grabbing the handle and making to put some distance between him and his foe. He could feel a bruise blossoming along his rib cage and thigh where he’d landed, both of which were bound to slow him down in close-quarters combat.

Ganon also took the opportunity to put distance between itself and its prey, quickly scurrying backwards up a nearby building, sending blue tiles tumbling to the ground as its legs scrabbled for purchase. Holding aloft its one weaponless hand, a ball of fire began to form within it. With a flick of the wrist Ganon sent the fire ball slowly floating through the air towards Link. As he tried to run out of range, Link realized the fire ball was tracking his movements, following him where he went. He paused, catching his breath and waiting until it was near enough to be unable to change direction before sprinting away; he could feel heat sear his back as the ball exploded on the ground behind him where he’d been standing moments before.

Once he’d cleared the heat of the explosion Link sprinted towards the still-standing outer wall of a smoldering building, running up the side then back-flipping off the wall in mid-air. Pulling forth his bow, he fired one, two, three arrows into Ganon’s chest in quick succession. Ganon roared, jumping down from atop the building as one of its arms scrabbled at its chest. Snapping off the shafts of the arrows, black ooze slowly seeping from its wounds, Ganon took a heaving breath then stretched its arms wide. A burst of fiery energy radiated off of it as its skin suddenly transformed from black to yellow-orange, glowing like a hot coal atop death mountain. The rain sizzled as each droplet fell onto its body, small trails of steam rising off its skin. How was he to get close now?

As the two circled each other, an idea occurred to him. Reaching into his quiver for an electric arrow left over from clearing out a Lynel atop Shatterbreak Point, he quickly knocked it and sent it flying at Ganon. It made to move out of range, but wasn’t quick enough: the arrow hit home near one of its back legs, sending an electric current jolting through its body. Ganon fell to the muddy ground, convulsing, its fiery aura momentarily fading. Taking quick advantage, Link darted forward, making several more choice strikes against its head and chest before leaping backwards as Ganon began to recover from the shock. It scuttled back as well, aura re-appearing as it swiped its fiery axe sideways through the air with rapid force, generating a small cyclone. Swiping again, it generated another. Eyes wide, Link sprinted to avoid them as they came whipping towards him, darting back and forth. As he skirted the central fountain, one of the cyclones passed right through, sending loose chunks of stone flying in all directions.

Dropping to the ground to avoid one as it flew at his head, Link almost didn’t notice as Ganon threw its polearm at him. Unable to move quickly enough on the muddy ground to get out of range, he quickly raised his shield and felt the polearm collide with it, sending him sliding backwards in the mud. Link’s face scrunched up in pain as a searing ache lanced up his arm. Quickly pulling his arm free of his shield and strapping it onto his back with his good hand, he felt along his damaged forearm. Pain exploded where he touched it, but he didn’t pull back, quickly feeling out his injury. It wasn’t broken, thank the goddessess, but it was perhaps fractured. Reaching into his belt for a red potion while holding his damaged arm against his chest, he pulled it forth, unstoppering it with his teeth and swallowing it down. Immediately the intensity of the pain faded. The potion had helped, but he’d have to be careful with his non-dominant arm; no more close calls. He stood, locating Ganon on the battle field.

Ganon was moving towards link, swinging the arms sporting short swords which Link deftly avoided and parried with the Master Sword. Seeing the futility of the strategy, Ganon pulled the short swords back and made to swing its giant axe once more. Link was far too close. Leaping backwards into a graceful backflip, Ganon narrowly missed him. Upon landing on his feet Link rushed forward in a flurry, swiping and slicing into Ganon rapidly with tremendous force, muscles aching with the effort. Darting backward with another backflip and strafing to the left to get out of melee range, Link could see he’d finally inflicted serious damage.

Black ooze poured from the wound, and the arachnid-esque grace it had exhibited up until now began to give way to clumsy sluggishness. It turned in rage towards Link who stood, Master Sword at the ready. He only needed one more good shot…

Ganon made to throw its polearm at Link once more, but he was too quick. Leaping to the side and deftly avoiding where the weapon embedded itself into the mud, Link sprinted forward, fueled by the nearness of victory, and delivered a fierce series of blows despite the near-unbearable heat radiating from the beast, before leaping backward as Ganon swiped fruitlessly with its shortsword arms. It howled in pain, its fiery aura slowly dimming until its sinewy black and red skin was all that remained.

Black ooze now gushed from the wound as Ganon flailed with furious desperation. Its legs struggled beneath it, slipping and sliding in the mud as it tried to remain standing; but it was over—they had done it. Ganon had been defeated.

Slumping to the ground, Gannon’s body twitched once, twice, then fell still, ooze continuing to pour from its final wounds. However, before Link could revel in his victory, in a sudden explosion of black and red smoke its body disintegrated, wispy tendrils flying outward and slowing, swirling in agitation around where Ganon’s body had just been.  
Something wasn’t right. Sensing a presence to his left, Link turned to see Zelda standing next to him, eyes closed and hands clasped as though in prayer. A small frown tugged at her features—she must be able to feel it too.

Suddenly, she lifted her head to gaze forward at the smoke before turning rapidly to look at him. Her eyes were glazed over, a solid white. Despite the battle he’d just endured, the sight of Zelda so unlike herself caused his pulse to quicken in alarm. She spoke with unearthly resonance, as she had before the city gate.

“Ganon has given up reincarnation and is assuming its pure, enraged form: a form of pure hate and malice. If set free upon our world the destruction will be unlike anything ever seen before. The fight is not yet over, Hero.”

The smoke began to rise into the air, swirling faster, condensing into a black cyclone. Almost as though in response Zelda began to glow brightly, skin and hair shining like gold. She extended a hand forward, palm up.

“I entrust you with the bow of light. It is a sacred relic and a powerful weapon in the face of evil. You will need it for the battle to come.”

Fading into existence as it floated slowly from the sky above her hand was a beautiful, ornate golden bow. Though he had little experience with magic, even Link could feel the power which radiated from it. As it came to rest above her opened palm, he reverently reached to grasp it. Lowering her hand, she turned her attention forward. As she blinked, the milky white of her eyes faded and her bright green irises returned; yet still, she glowed.

Before them, the smoke had begun to coalesce, and from within the confines of the cyclone body parts began to appear: first a large, hoofed leg; then, a muscular shoulder. As the cyclone faded, the beast before them became fully revealed: it was a gargantuan creature, skin black like tar with streaks of dark blood-red rippling across it. A fiery mane protruded from the top of its boar-like head, and two large tusks were nestled beneath a snout, set below glowing yellow eyes.

Ignoring the two of them entirely, the beast turned its bulk towards the Castle Town gate and released a guttural roar. Lowering its head, red light began to emanate from within its maw, culminating in a beam of sickly red energy which blasted straight through the rightmost guard tower, obliterating the gate, tower, and a section of wall. With slow, heavy steps, the beast tromped forward, shaking the ground as it walked and destroying all in its path.

Zelda turned once more to Link, her green eyes boring urgently into his. “Call for Epona—she will come. When you reach the field take the bow: I will create weak spots on its hide for you to pierce with its light arrows. Go!” Without waiting for a response, she pulled her clasped hands against her chest, shutting her eyes in concentration. Her golden figure slowly began to dissolve into a mass of shimmering particles, which quickly ascended into the sky.

Link didn’t have time to ponder the astonishing magic Zelda had just performed—the beast had already made its way out of Castle Town and into the field. Pulling his hands to his mouth, he let loose a loud whistle. The sound of a whinny in the distance reached him as Epona came galloping from the east. Leaping into the saddle without waiting for her to slow, Link grabbed the reins and snapped them, racing off towards Hyrule Field on the heals of Calamity Ganon.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

She was pure light, now. Distantly, the name Zelda floated across her mind, but who was Zelda? Was she Zelda? It didn’t matter. Power coursed through her veins like fire—purifying and potent, yet it did not consume her. Rather, it was like the warmth of life filling her being, granting her soul strength.

She floated high above Hyrule field, a beacon of light—a star hovering above a sea of green. From her vantage she could see Link astride Epona, galloping behind Ganon as it headed south, pulling up on the beast’s right. She sent forth a burst of power, trailing through the sky like a falling star towards Ganon and leaving a glowing mark on its hide. She then focused her mind towards link, feeling the wavy tendrils of his consciousness as she projected a message.

“Now, Link! Strike there!”

She could see from on high as, without hesitation, Link pulled forth the bow of light and let loose an arrow hitting the weakened area with pinpoint accuracy.

Falling back as Ganon turned its head to unleash another deadly blast of energy in retaliation, Link circled around to its other side, Galloping in time with Ganon’s heavy strides. She let forth another burst of energy, striking Ganon on its opposite side and leaving another glowing mark upon it. Once again Link hit his mark, but this time was too slow to avoid Ganon as its head turned surprisingly sharply. With another blast of energy it upturned the earth before Link, sending him flying from Epona’s back.

Epona banked, a hard left away from the fray and towards where Link had fallen. Though slow to recover, Link managed to rise from the ground, mounting her quickly and resuming the chase. As he pulled back up alongside Ganon’s flank, Zelda let forth several bursts of power, each leaving marks all along the its side. In rapid succession, Link fired off arrows at each, hitting one after another. They were getting close…

This time Link didn’t wait around, falling back behind Ganon before it could turn its head to retaliate. Repeating the pattern, Link had quickly pulled around to the beast’s other side and Zelda opened several more weak points along the beast’s flank. Though her view was distant, she could tell Link’s strength was flagging. His first arrow hit, but his the second and third missed. As he let loose a fourth and fifth, an infuriated Ganon pulled a leg in front of his path, slamming into him and sending him flying from Epona once more.

The final two arrows had hit their marks, however. With a cry, Ganon stumbled in its stride, coming to a shuddering stand-still before falling to the ground with an earth-shaking thump. Link struggled to stand, gripping Epona for support as he got to his feet. A giant eye upon Ganon’s back, which had until now been tightly shut, began to slowly open, swiveling around in confusion. This was it! She reached out once more towards Link’s mind, urging him on.

“Link, rally your strength, Ganon is almost defeated! Strike at its core; there, atop its head!”

Link stood shakily, bow ready. With urgency she called upon her power, sending forth a beam of light which cascaded down towards the eye atop Ganon’s head, leaving a searing mark across its retina. Link made to jump onto the beast. Quickly she called upon the winds, wishing to spare him the searing pain of coming into contact with malice, sending an updraft to help carry him high into the sky. With careful accuracy, he sent a final arrow flying into the beast’s eye, striking dead center.

Ganon roared, an unearthly shriek which echoed across the field as its body shuddered and shook. It was now her turn; it was time to seal the beast away.

Slowly, she descended from the sky, glowing like a beacon. Alighting upon the ground before Ganon, it shuddered once as it attempted to stand, sensing her intention. She let the power course through her with renewed fervor, a massive tidal wave of energy slowly building within her. As it had once before, Ganon’s body began to dissolve into smoke as once again it resumed its ghostly form, attempting to escape into the sky; but she would not be denied this victory.

Power radiated off of her in waves, like heat from the sands of the Gerudo desert. The wind whipped wildly around her as she slowly unclasped her hands, raising her right and letting the power that had built up within her release. Blinding light burst forth, a golden triforce symbol hovering before her. A sphere of energy expanded rapidly outward, growing, several times larger than the castle itself. Ganon roared, attempting to escape but was quickly consumed as its dark fleeing figure was overtaken by light. The giant sphere pulsed once, twice, thrice, then in the blink of an eye condensed to no more than the size of a palm fruit, before shrinking into nothingness.

Zelda felt a sudden hollowness overtake her, like the loss of breath when one jumps into icy water. The moment she felt her power complete the seal upon Ganon—that same power which had been coursing through her like a raging river—it had subsided suddenly into barely the trickle of a bubbling brook. Despite this, jubilation washed trough her, the strength of her joy distracting from the toll of her magic. She had done it! Calamity Ganon… she had sealed it—it was over!

She made to turn to Link, to share in this moment of victory, but the moment she moved her legs she felt complete and utter exhaustion grip her entire being. Her limbs felt like lead weights and her legs wobbled dangerously. For the first time since they’d engaged Ganon she felt the demands of her body. She dared not move for fear her legs would give out; her head throbbed, her muscles ached, and faintness gripped her. Blackness began to encroach upon the edges of her vision, and as her mind slowly faded into darkness she remembered Link’s face hovering over hers, concern etched across his features; he had a deep cut on his forehead, and the desire to help him flowered momentarily within her as she struggled to raise her hand. Then, nothingness overcame her.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Cheers and sobs of relief erupted from within the remaining guard room, soldiers and civilians alike tearfully embracing as the realization that the horror was over washed over them like a soothing tide. But Traysi did not join in the revelry; she was a professional, and had an account to transcribe. Celebration could come later. Scribbling furiously in her notebook, she rushed to write down all she had seen of the battle out the third story window of the guard tower, brow furrowed as she struggled to keep every detail in her mind’s eye long enough to ensure its preservation on paper.

It had been by chance she’d been in Castle Town when the Calamity struck. She’d been chatting up Barlow, her go-to guy for confirming castle rumors. She’d come for an anniversary story of sorts—that a year after the sword had been drawn, the Princess was still been unable to unlock the legendary sealing power. Then the earthquakes had struck. When Ganon had appeared in the sky above the castle not long after, she’d thought that it was the end. ‘Well, Traysi,’ she’d said to herself, ‘You’ve traveled far and wide—you’ve lived a good life, if a bit on the short side.’ But it turned out that, instead of facing a brutal and potentially bloody end, she’d gotten the scoop of a lifetime.

A teary Barlow walked towards the ladder to the observation deck, laughing shakily and clapping the backs of his fellow soldiers as he began his climb with a manic grin upon his face.

“Traysi!” he called up, “Can you believe it? It’s over! Sir Link was incredible! I’ve never seen a man fight like that! And did you see what the Princess—” he stopped short upon reaching the top of the ladder, seeing her scribbling away and stolidly ignoring him. Pulling himself up onto the viewing platform, he gawked at her, gesturing wildly, “Are you seriously writing for that Rumor Mill when the whole of Hyrule was just facing total destruction? A half hour ago your were making peace with the Goddesses!” he exclaimed.

Finalizing her notes, she turned to him with mock impatience. “Yes, Barlow,” she said with some exasperation, “Of course I’m writing for the Rumor Mill. I am a professional! And, in case you hadn’t noticed, the whole of Hyrule was facing total destruction—as in, past tense.” Seeing his dumbfounded expression, she chuckled, turning back to her notebook to add a few final thoughts. She spoke without looking up, a glint in her eyes, “This is the scoop of a lifetime! An eye-witness account of the Battle for Hyrule. I’ll sell thousands of copies!”

Suddenly, the joyful shouts and cries of the room below faded as a hush filled the guard room, drawing Traysi’s attention away from her notebook. Shutting it and slipping it into the pouch at her waist, she curiously peered over the edge of the viewing platform trying to determine the cause of such a dramatic change in mood.

“Traysi…” Barlow’s sudden seriousness caused her to turn quickly towards him, where he stood gazing warily out the observation tower window. Moving to stand next to him and likewise gaze out upon the field, she saw what had caused silence to descend so suddenly. Walking across the field, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead and clothing stained and tattered, was the Hero Link, expression stony; and in his arms held limply against his chest, lay the princess.

Despite her earlier jubilation at not only the defeat of Calamity Ganon but the prospect of such great sales for her next issue of the Rumor Mill, Traysi felt her heart plummet. She had really wanted to be able to relay a happy ending to this tale of tragedy and woe; she’d envisioned, perhaps, the Princess and her Hero returning to Castle Town as the city residents swarmed the streets in cheers and shouts. Instead, it seemed the events of the day would end in uncertainty…

As the Hero and the Princess made their way through the pile of rubble which was once the Castle Town gate, Traysi shook herself from her reverie and darted across the rickety wooden planks to the opposite viewing platform whose window faced the city’s interior, Barlow’s footsteps sounding behind her. The two of them watched in uneasy silence from on high as Link proceeded through the center of the city towards the Castle. Eyes peered from windows and beneath cellar doors as he passed, the whole of Castle Town silent as its survivors watched and worried, unsure whether their Princess would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF PART 1.


	5. In Too Deep

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 5: In Too Deep  
**

Her body felt heavy in his arms, and despite the searing pain in his chest, the aching in his limbs, and the sting of countless cuts and bruises which covered his body, his journey back to the castle was hurried, fueled by adrenaline and fear. Blood trickled into his eye from a cut on his forehead, periodically blurring his vision with red but he ignored it, pushing ever on towards his goal. Though it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, it felt like an age before he passed through the dented castle gate. Entering into the relative safety of the castle grounds he briefly paused and allowed himself a moment to catch his breath.

The survivors of Castle Town had been watching him as he’d passed through the ruins of the city, their eyes peeking from under cellar doors and behind window curtains, but he’d paid them little heed; the still figure in his arms occupied his full attention. She’d been completely unresponsive after collapsing in the field, but a quick check of her vitals proved she was still alive. The pressing question, though, was whether she would be alright. Her pulse had been weak, and her face was still pale. He needed to get her medical attention. He prayed to the goddesses that the castle doctors were still alive.

She had been spectacular. Until she’d finally unlocked her powers, he hadn’t known what they would actually do or look like once manifested. As far as he’d heard, the late queen had simply had a strange sixth sense; she hadn’t been able to levitate, she hadn’t been able to speak in others’ minds, let alone speak to the dead. A part of him had been stunned at her raw power; however, he’d been too occupied to think much on it, and had shoved his incredulity to the back of his mind for later consideration. Not much else felt like it mattered with Ganon loose.

It seemed now was that later. As he forced his aching legs onward up the hill, he couldn’t get the image of her standing before Ganon—a glowing beacon of light, out of his mind. Glancing down briefly to gaze upon her still face—long blond hair wet and clinging to her cheeks, dark lashes closed over what he knew to be vibrant green eyes—she looked just like any ordinary girl; yet not long ago she’d been a Goddess. He’d never heard of any figure this side of the millennium capable of such a show of raw power. It seemed inconceivable that channeling such potent energies wouldn’t have taken a toll on her. Was this lifeless form in his arms the consequence of that? What if she never woke? The thought sent a pit of anxiety into his stomach and he clutched her tighter, increasing his pace and pushing his already burning muscles to their limit.

But his strength was flagging. It was his duty to protect her—he had to keep her safe, yet he was failing… Hyrule couldn’t afford to lose her. HE couldn’t afford to lose—

Link nearly stumbled in his stride as the thought took shape within his mind. He quickly looked down at her nestled against his chest. She was soaked through, much like himself, and despite the chill wind she did not shiver. No, that— He couldn’t… It wasn’t… It was just—he, as a knight, couldn’t afford to lose his charge while she was under his care. As a citizen of Hyrule he couldn’t afford to lose his princess… it was… yeah, that was it… He had his oaths, he knew his place… Yet despite the assurances his mind concocted, he knew in his heart it was more than that.

Internally he cursed himself. When had he allowed himself to… care, so deeply? So personally? He knew she’d wanted so dearly to be close with him, especially as pressure from her father and the council had mounted. It had been abundantly clear she felt alone in her destiny, and was desperate for someone, anyone, who could understand. Was that was this was? A… deep friendship? Aside from Mipha and Daruk, he’d never really had friends growing up. His whole life had been spent moving from place to place to train, constrained by protocol and rules and oaths. Social skills were hardly his strong suite. How the hell was he to know?

As his eyes traveled across her features, thoughts a-whirl, his heart beat painfully in his chest at the sight of her battered figure and the realization that he had no idea if he’d ever see her bright, joyful eyes again.

As he rounded the first bend in the road the gatehouse became visible, looming tall atop the hill. Tile shingles dangled from the damaged tower roof where a large hole was visible. Shouts echoed from within the building, and he hastened his stride. Thank the Goddesses.

“Link!”

Scanning ahead of him, he squinted into the dim interior of the gatehouse. He recognized that voice… Urging himself onward, he saw her step hurriedly out from the shadows.

“Councilor Umbra!” he shouted hoarsely, sprinting towards her despite the screaming protest of his lungs and legs. The Sheikah woman ran towards him from the cover of the gatehouse, flanked by three Sheikah warriors who bounded fluidly after her.

“What happened? What’s wrong with the Princess?” Her voice was weary and laced with anxiety, a stark contrast to her usual level control.

“Sh—She—” Link took a gasping breath, trying to steady his breathing, “I—I don’t… I don’t know, she collapsed after sealing Ganon.”

Impa nodded to one of the Sheikah at her left and he moved forward, arms outstretched.

“Keye, take the Princess to the east wing guest rooms.” She then turned to the other, “Cotran, find Healer Ravio. He is likely tending to the King with Luann and Selga. See that she is treated immediately.”

As Keye made to grab the Princess from his arms Link instinctively stiffened, holding her tighter. Impa looked to him with irritation, releasing a frustrated breath, “Master Link, I admire your commitment to duty, but she will be taken care of. Follow if you like, but once you reach the east wing, I order you to report to a doctor or healer for treatment. You look terrible.”

Silently, reluctantly, Link released the Princess to the arms of the Sheikah warrior who grabbed her limp figure gently. He knew he was being silly, there were few beside the Sheikah who could be unequivocally trusted to ensure the wellbeing of a member of the Royal family; but he was reticent to let her out of his sight, or his arms, however silly he knew the urge to be.

Turning to Impa, he bowed stiffly. The castle might be in chaos but she was still his superior. As he rose, her expression softened and she stepped towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Though barely perceptible, she smiled.

“Thank you, Link, truly. Hyrule owes you much.”

Though the knot in his stomach prevented him from smiling in return, he did manage a firm nod before turning to follow after the Sheikah warrior, sending a silent prayer that the Princess would be alright.

-:-:-:-

Link found himself pacing in agitation within the confines of his temporary quarters. The east wing guest rooms had been converted into a makeshift hospital as the castle infirmary had been rendered unusable by the Calamity. The wing was in chaos when he’d arrived. Nurses, maids, doctors, and healers practically ran up and down the hall, carrying bottles of red potion and purified water, bandages, and the occasional patient on a gurney. Yet despite that, one of the castle’s more experienced healers, an elderly woman named Selga, made time to treat him immediately upon his arrival. As he’d suspected his ulna was fractured, he’d cracked several ribs—which explained his chest pain, suffered a minor concussion, and the cuts and bruises were too numerous to count. Though it had exhausted her healing abilities, all of his major injuries had been mended; but the one thing no healer’s magic could do was treat exhaustion. And so he’d been assigned a room down the hall from the the one occupied by the Princess and advised to rest.

However, what was causing his relentless pacing was the fact that he had been expressly barred from seeing her; “temporarily relieved of duty” as Impa had put it. He had objected when initially she’d simply requested that he get some sleep, and so instead she made it an order: he was confined to his temporary quarters to rest and recuperate for the next 24 hours.

Though his body screamed for sleep his mind would not rest. He’d had little word on her condition. Was she alright? Would she recover? His mind’s eye circled with images of her still, pale figure in his arms. He needed to know if she would be okay; it could not wait 24 hours. Resolved, he turned and headed for the door—only to stop with his hand on the knob. As much as he wanted to barge down the hall to her room to demand answers, he was under orders to remain within his room and rest. Going to see her would be in direct defiance of Impa—a terrifying prospect. Frustrated, he turned and walked away from the door, bandaged hands balled into fists at his side. Thus the pacing began again.

When had things gotten this out of hand? He was going out of his mind! At what point had he so foolishly let himself become emotionally involved like… like… He viciously turned on his heel as he walked the other way once more. He’d always cared about her safety, that was his job after all and she was his Kingdom’s Princess, but this… agitation, this restless frustration—this was different. She was under the care of two of the most experienced and talented healers in Hyrule. She was safe within the castle walls once more. There was nothing more he could do. What did he hope to gain by barging in to see her? It was ridiculous! No, more than that—it wasn’t his place.

His pacing slowed to a stop before his four poster bed as he gazed tiredly off at nothing. With a long exhale he sat heavily upon the mattress, head in his hands. He’d only been back at the castle a handful of hours and already it was back to ‘yes sir’, ‘no sir’, bowing and acting like a statue. He hadn’t minded it before—it had provided a convenient structure for him to follow to avoid critical attention. When he’d pulled the sword all eyes had turned on him: some in jealousy wishing they instead could be the Hero of legend, some in anger—as though he’d personally started the countdown to when the Calamity would return. But if he followed protocol and stayed silent, few would look at him twice. It made the burden easier to bear. But after so long on the road with the Princess, free and unrestrained to just… be, those protocols which had once once been his cloak now felt like his chains; and though she might be able to rise above them whenever she so chose, he would forever be restrained by them.

He had to face it: at some point, the Princess had gotten under his skin. Despite openly hating him at the start of his appointment, they had inexplicably grown close. Perhaps just a bit closer than was strictly appropriate. It was just… She’d been so frustrated and lonely over the course of their time together this past year, and in the private moments they’d shared together he just couldn’t sit and watch her suffer under such a tremendous burden alone and pretend not to notice.

Perhaps that was how it had happened. They’d spent so much time together traveling across Hyrule she’d been unable to hide her vulnerability from him and he’d been unable to remain indifferent to her pain. Granted, he’d always been careful to maintain the boundaries that divided their stations as best as the circumstances would allow—’Royal protocol must be always maintained’ as his drill officer used repeat ad nauseum. But fate had thrown them both into the proverbial spotlight, and had heaped upon them a greater burden than either of them were truly ready to bear alone. Despite his caution, boundaries had been crossed anyway.

That day they’d spent surveying flora and fauna on the North Hyrule Plain he’d found himself behaving in a way that would have made his old drill officer choke on his nightly pint of ale; crawling through the grass with her as she photographed flowers and wild herbs—hardly dignified. It hadn’t been conscious, he’d just finally grown so weary of pretending to be made of stone every time she tried to engage him; and he’d been curious, and she so passionate. He’d been silently fascinated as she showed him the different plants and explained their medicinal or culinary uses. It hadn’t been until she started shoving a frog in his face that he realized he’d maybe allowed himself to be a bit too familiar with her.

And then she’d broken down at the Spring of Power after enduring such harsh criticism from her father not a week earlier. When she’d despaired at the statue of the Goddess, begging a reason for her failure—to know what was so wrong with her that the goddesses had seemingly forsaken her, the prospect of standing idly by and letting her sob alone in the water felt wholly wrong. It had been the first time he’d ever initiated crossing that uncrossable line between them. Stooping to pick a nearby blue nightshade flower glowing in the moonlight on the bank of the pond—her mother’s favorite flower, a fact he’d learned that day in Hyrule Field—he’d waded out into the water where she stood, hunched, crying before the statue. He had placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, startling her as she turned suddenly in his direction, and extended the flower silently with a small smile. The glow of the petals had illuminated the teardrops running down her cheeks and caused her eyes to sparkle—a detail he remembered perhaps a bit too well, as she stared between him and the flower with both surprise and confusion. It hadn’t taken long though for a small smile to work its way to her face as she reached forward to take the offering, wrapping her small hand around his larger one. After that, though he’d been careful to conduct himself more appropriately, an easy camaraderie had wordlessly followed—one he selfishly couldn’t deny enjoying.

At some point their relationship had progressed beyond that of a royal and her appointed protector and into the realm of… something else. What, he wasn’t exactly sure. He knew he cared about her: not as the crown Princess and future Queen of Hyrule, but as Zelda, the passionate, selfless, endlessly curious would-be researcher. But whether he liked it or not, that ‘something else’ could never be allowed to exist.

Despite the fact that being cooped up in his unfamiliar room with no word on her condition was driving him crazy, he finally gave up, laying back upon the bed with his arms held behind his head as he stared blankly at the rich red velvet canopy of his four poster. After another ten minutes of fretful, frustrated, circuitous thoughts, he finally drifted off into a fitful sleep, dreaming of a blinding light floating high above a sea of green.

-:-:-:-

Link splashed cool water from the wash basin onto the heated skin of his face. Though he couldn’t remember the content of his dreams, he’d awoken thrashing in his bed with a pit in his stomach. As he dried his face, he caught sight of himself in the mirror hanging above the basin. He looked haggard. His hair was more shaggy than usual, and bags hung from beneath his eyes. Maybe Impa had been right; maybe he did need a rest.

A firm knock sounded at the door and he walked somewhat blearily to the doorway and pulled it open. Impa stood before him in the hall looking wearier than he’d ever seen her; yet despite that she was impeccably dressed, her hair pulled into a tight bun atop her head and her clothing clean and pressed. Years of training took over and he straightened, then bowed, at attention before a superior.

“Councilor Umbra.”

“Master Link, I apologize for interrupting your rest, but I have urgent matters I need to discuss with you.”

Silently he nodded, pulling the door open to allow her entry, then shutting it behind her with a snap. He gestured to the twin armchairs in the corner of the room, but Impa shook her head.

“Thank you, but I fear if I sit I will not be able to get back up.” Impa offered a wry smile as Link gazed back at her with hastily-disguised surprise. If Impa was that exhausted, she must really be on her last leg… How bad were things out there?

“Link, I will get right to the point, starting with the Princess. She is expected to make a full recovery. She sustained minor physical injuries which were easily mended. The healers say that sealing the Calamity drained her severely. She just needs to rest, and is expected to make a full recovery soon.” Link was unable to disguise his relief, and Impa offered similar sentiments. However, her countenance quickly turned serious.

“What I’m about to divulge to you is privileged information, and you are not to discuss it with anyone except members of the council and the Princess.”

She paused, eying him sternly. Link straightened, that familiar knot tightening in his gut. It was a worrying preface, but he’d received confirmation that the Princess was well and that eased some of his anxieties. He nodded for her to continue.

“The King is in a coma.”

Link stilled. That was… not what he expected to hear. The King… what? The information threw his tired mind into a tailspin as he struggled to process the many implications of this news.

“I… Is he—will the King recover?”

Impa sighed, running a hand down her face. Despite the Sheikah’s longevity, in that moment, Impa looked every bit her 40 years.

“We don’t know. He suffered severe head trauma. The doctors and healers have done all they can. They say he could wake in a couple days or a couple months, and if he does, they don’t know what condition his cognitive function will be in. He could be perfectly well or utterly unable to function. We just… don’t know.”

Link felt a lead weight settle in his stomach. While he didn’t know the King well on a personal level, he was still the King, and more importantly he was Zelda’s father. While he was saddened by the revelation, his first thoughts flew to the Princess. How would she take the news? Wait. Wait, if the King was… did that mean…

“Councilor, if the King is… indisposed, who will govern Hyrule?”

Impa eyed him pointedly, “You bring me to my main point, Link. As the head of the Royal Council I am currently managing affairs. However, once the Princess is well enough to fill the role, she will be made Princess-Regent.”

Link’s eyes widened, but Impa continued undaunted.

“To complicate matters, our military was…” she sighed, “destroyed, utterly destroyed by the Calamity. Initial estimates suggest we’ve lost nearly one quarter of our fighting forces—almost all of them our best men and women, and much of our military leadership including General Willet. Which means: your role as the Princess’ appointed knight is more important than ever. Until the military losses have been addressed, which will likely not be any time soon, you are the Princess’ first line of defense, even within the castle.”

One quarter… Link was at a loss for words. He knew many of the enlisted personally. General Willet had been a major support for him when he’d been accepted into the Royal Guard at the unthinkably young age of 14. The military was his family: his father and his grandfather and his father before him had all served. Though he’d seen with his own eyes the massive loss of life before the Castle Town gate, where many of the soldiers had fallen protecting the city, to hear of the totality of the losses… Unconsciously his hands balled into fists as he struggled to push the emotions away. There were other things to deal with right now.

Forcing his attention back to Impa, he nodded.

“Though we have no reports to indicate any immediate threat to the Princess’ safety, there are no patrols on the roads and most guard stations throughout the Kingdom have had their forces recalled to protect the castle and the Castle Town refugees. I do not want to take any chances. While you are on duty, keep her in your sight. When you are off duty, keep a peripheral awareness of her whereabouts. Do not let her go anywhere unaccompanied. Is that understood?”

Again, Link nodded, face tight and shoulders stiff with tension. Her expression turned a tad softer.

“Finally, while I had hoped to be able to give you more time to rest, I will need you to resume your duties this evening, rather than tomorrow morning, guarding the Princess’ chamber.”

This news at least offered some solace. Even if he wouldn’t be able to see her, he would feel better knowing she was well protected. Once more, Link nodded. Impa eyed him a moment before sighing once more.

“Thank you, Link. I am sorry to have to drop so much on you at once after such an ordeal.”

After additional pleasantries, Link showed the Councilor out, closing the door softly behind her. He shut his eyes with a shaky exhalation of breath, turning to rest his back heavily against the wood. Everything was in chaos. Though the Calamity had been defeated, the battle was far from over.


	6. Loss

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 6: Loss**

The world came to her first in the form of sound. Distantly, she could hear the soft rustling of skirts, then the rhythmic groan and squeak of wood. Her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, and she was warm and comfortable—a downy softness supported her aching body, and the familiar smooth cotton of the castle bed sheets slid across her skin. Turning slightly to her side, she pulled a fluffy pillow against her cheek to ease the kink in her neck. Oh Goddesses how she’d missed sleeping on a mattress!

Wait—a mattress? Zelda’s eyes flew open, heart pounding despite the sluggishness of her mind as she forced herself upright with a gasp, becoming light-headed in the process. Blinking away the darkness that crowded the edges of her vision, she tried to quickly survey the dim, unfamiliar room she found herself in as the sound of blood rushed in her ears. This wasn’t right, she wasn’t supposed to be here—but she couldn’t think of why… Her limbs were shaky and responded slowly to her commands as she tried to use them to support her weight; but she had little opportunity to orient herself before she was interrupted by a strangled shout echoing from her right.

“Princess! Oh, my—Princess, you’re awake!”

Zelda jumped at the sudden noise, whipping her head towards the source of the excitable voice. She was greeted by a nurse maid, mouth agape, standing before an empty, still-rocking rocking chair. Knitting lay at her feet and a ball of yarn rolled away across the floor. Zelda blinked, adrenaline buzzing within her mind as she tried to piece together what was going on; she didn’t recognize this woman, or where she was—and couldn’t recall how she’d ended up here. Wracking her brain, the last thing she remembered… had been her and Link in Hyrule field. It was all so fuzzy. Why had they been in Hyrule Field? It had been so important… Why couldn’t she—Ganon! In a rush, everything—the journey to Castle Town, unlocking her powers, Ganon’s defeat—came flooding back in an overwhelming tide. Opening her mouth to try and ask one the millions of questions birthed of this revelation, she was interrupted by the maid’s flustered rambling as she too seemed to finally get a grasp on the situation.

“Oh, Princess, everyone will be so relieved… I’m just—heavens what would we have done! Hyrule without a Hyrule! They said you would, but I didn’t—not after his Highness… Oh, and the council!” Stepping animatedly over the fallen knitting, skirt in hand, she rushed to the door in a frenzy, completely ignoring the baffled Princess.

“Wait—!” Zelda croaked, her voice hoarse from disuse, but the maid was already swinging the door open and stepping hurriedly through. Her footsteps echoed through the open doorway as she ran down the stone corridor at full pelt.

Flabbergasted, Zelda groped for what to do next; The brief surge of adrenalin she’d felt upon waking was already fading and she was beginning to feel the full force of her exhaustion; the prospect of getting out of bed to find someone seemed horribly daunting. Where was she anyway? Looking around she recognized the familiar stonework of the castle, but she did not recognize the room she was in. Closing her eyes momentarily to try and gather her wits, she felt the heaviness of her eyelids and the threat of them remaining that way. Perhaps if she just laid her head back down… The downy softness did seem tempting—to simply fall back into her bed’s soft embrace. But could she really stand to wait to find out what was going—what had happened? What of Castle Town? What of the champions? What of Link?

She didn’t have long to contemplate, however, before another presence made itself known.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Link knew she’d finally awoken when he heard the nurse’s muffled shout beyond the door. He’d barely had time to consider what to do with this information, however, before he felt a rush of air as the door behind him was forcefully pulled open and said nurse rushed past him, bumping into his shoulder as she ran down the hall without giving him so much as a passing glance. He knew Zelda’s rotation of nurses were under orders to notify Impa immediately when the Princess finally awoke, but it seemed this nurse had really taken the command to heart. Glancing left and right down the hall, it was deserted. Turning on his heel, he stared at the partially opened door, his heart thrumming in his ears as he debated what to do.

Should he go in? He wanted to go in. Was that really necessary, though, or even appropriate? After half a week back at the castle it had truly hit home how far beyond royal protocol and etiquette his relationship with the Princess had become. They might have been able to get away with it while on the road, but not here at the center of Hyrule’s social and political formalities, as thrown into chaos as it might be. He had no right and no reason to be so familiar with her, and his actions needed to start reflecting that. Goddesses, if some of the council members caught wind of the fact that he’d interrupted her prayers or had spoken to her without using her title, there would be an uproar.

Thus, he’d determined to return to a more… appropriate demeanor, in his dealings with the Princess—or rather, Princess-Regent.

Then there was that. He was about to become the appointed knight to the ruler of the Kingdom of Hyrule. All eyes would be upon him—now, even more than before. When she was just a Princess setting aside royal protocol for a little while, especially when they were far from the castle, hadn’t felt like such a malfeasance, especially if it made his job protecting her easier. The fact that he’d enjoyed getting to know her—enjoyed spending time with her, well… that had been a bonus.

His interactions with Impa and some of the other council members over the past several days had jarred him back to reality. He was her protector, her appointed knight, not her friend or confidant—regardless of what the Princess insisted upon. Therefore there was no real reason for him to enter her chambers and see for himself that she’d awoken, or to make sure that she was okay; and that fact was irrelevant to guarding her chamber anyway. But Impa had said not to let her out of his sight… did this really count? He knew standing guard outside her door was as good as standing guard inside her room; there were no other points of entry—she was secure. But it seemed his body had paid no heed to the thoughts in his head. His legs instead chose to listen to his heart, and he found himself standing beyond the threshold, facing the large four poster bed in which she lay.

He felt suddenly nervous as he gazed at her sitting up in bed, the sheets pooled around her waist. She was still dressed in her prayer gown, her golden tresses tousled from sleep. Her eyes wandered the room in confusion until they landed upon him. As her gaze met his, time seemed to stop as, for a moment, he forgot his grand re-commitment to royal protocol, lost as he was in the sight of her. Despite himself, a small smile began to grow, and his heart beat just a little bit faster. Though she looked tired and a groggy, she still shone with her own inner light. She was… she was okay. Everything was okay. He felt a tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding bleed out of him as her bright eyes took him in, softening as she returned his smile.

As suddenly as his decision to enter the room, his actions registered in his mind and he scolded himself internally. This was NOT how he’d wanted to start things off… Attempting to course-correct, he averted his gaze, breaking the strange spell as he slowly took several steps towards her, stopping short halfway to the bed. He held one arm before him and bent forward on one knee, as he would before her father. She was soon to be in the same position, after all, whether she knew it yet or not.

“Princess. It is good to see you awake and well.”

Though he kept his gaze glued to the floor, he could hear confusion and disappointment in her voice.

“Link, what—? I… Please, don’t.”

Link tilted his head up to meet her gaze, doing his best to keep his expression neutral in the face of her undisguised disappointment. He hadn’t really meant to enter her chamber, but now that he had he was determined that their brief interaction—and brief he would ensure it was—was formal, as was expected of someone in his position, greeting someone in hers. She eyed him, confusion evident in the furrow of her brow as she gestured weakly with her hand.

“Rise, Link. You needn’t ever kneel before me.”

At the direct command Link rose, standing tall with his shoulders straight and arms behind his back. Though he felt a firm disagreement with the latter statement, he chose not to argue the point. He’d gotten what he wanted—he’d gotten to see her, now he needed to subtly excuse himself back to his post.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zelda chose to, at least for the moment, ignore Link’s sudden strange behavior. More pressing questions gnawed at her mind as she once more glanced around the room.

“Since what I assume was my nurse ran out of the room before I could utter a word, would you mind filling me in on what happened? Where am I?”

Link spoke calmly and concisely, his tone neutral. “We’re in the eastern wing of Hyrule Castle—the guest quarters.”

”I take it you brought me here?”

He nodded.

“I—what happened? I… don’t remember much. I remember… after I sealed Ganon, in Hyrule Field, you were… standing over me. You had a cut on your forehead…” She was lost in the fragmented memory, raising her hand to her forehead as though touching the remembered wound. Link nodded again.

“You collapsed after sealing the Calamity. I brought you back to the castle, but the infirmary was destroyed. The east wing has been turned into a temporary hospital. Healer Ravio treated you.”

She absorbed the information slowly, eying him absently. He looked different—cleaner, than what she last remembered of him. “And what of you? You’re looking well.”

“I was treated after you were seen to.”

She eyed him more critically, taking in his rigid stance and unusual formality. He was acting extremely strange. She’d been so happy to see him when he’d first stepped through the door, but now it was like there was a wall between them. It reminded her distinctly of the first several months into his appointment, after he’d saved her from the blades of the Yiga outside of the Kara Kara Bazaar, when she’d tried so hard to breach his stoic demeanor. She didn’t like it. Regardless, she would get her answers before poking at this new… problem. Though he did look distinctly better now than she remembered him looking in Hyrule Field, there were still bags under his eyes and a heaviness about his shoulders. She chewed the inside of her lip in worry.

“How are you?”

He looked at her with an unreadable expression for a moment before providing a non-answer. “I’m well, Princess.”

He paused a moment, as though debating something. His expression gave away little, though Zelda could hear the faintest trace of some deeper emotion in the gentle tones of his voice when finally did speak. Though it was an innocent enough inquiry, it somehow felt very personal.

“How are you?”

Zelda gazed at her hands resting in her lap as she considered the question. It somehow felt wrong to respond with a platitude, despite the fact that he had done just that. Taking a moment to consider herself, she could feel exhaustion pulling on her limbs like a physical weight. Her brain felt as though a Lizalfos had taken a bite out of it. Thinking was just… exhausting. She exhaled tiredly.

“I feel like I got run over by a hinox; but I’ll survive,” she added with a wan smile, hoping humor would pull him out of whatever weird mood he was in. She would have no such luck it seemed, as he simply stared at her politely and nodded.

Frustration, disappointment, and an overwhelming sadness settled into Zelda’s heart as Link continued to stare at her blankly. The last little bit of her energy had bled out of her with her words, draining her will to fight him. It seemed, she thought bitterly, now that their roles had been fulfilled things would return to their pre-calamity norms—that once again, as before, she would be alone: the oddball Princess, separated from her peers by destiny and ostracized for her unconventional interests. After all, what Princess would go crawling through the mud in pursuit of beetles and frogs? She had hoped that, maybe, he had not chalked their companionship up to a mere crisis-time anomaly. Despite her initial resentments, which she silently admitted to herself were patently unfair, she had grown extremely… attached. Seeing him beaten and battered in that copse of trees facing down a guardian and ready to lay down his life to save hers—willingly and without hesitation—made her realize just how much she truly valued and cared for him. She didn’t want to think about what she’d have done if she’d lost him.

Yet now… Now he’d abandoned her name for her title once again, standing at attention and kneeling before her as though he were speaking to her father. His seeming rejection cut her deeper than she really wanted to consider. Was she always doomed to be alone? Well… even if he was determined to place stupid, needless protocol before friendship, at least she still had the friendship of the other champions: Urbosa, Daruk, Mipha and…

Zelda’s thoughts abruptly halted and all else melted away. Oh, Goddesses, how had this not been the first thing to occur to her?

Her shoulders went rigid and her eyes widened as anxiety gripped her in its vice. Link eyed her with concern, taking a hesitant half-step closer. She met his concerned gaze with apprehension, fear filling her at the prospect of the answer she might receive to her question. She tried to keep her voice steady.

“Link… what of the Champions? Vah Ruta and Vah Medoh—we never saw them fire.”

Link hesitated to respond. A hardness overtook his features and he looked away. Zelda felt dread seep into her gut, heart beating painfully as she awaited the words she knew were coming. His face said it all. When he didn’t answer, Zelda prompted him once more, her voice wavering with the sob she could feel already forming in her throat.

“Link, please—I must know.”

He exhaled slowly, schooling his expression before turning to meet her gaze. “Ganon, it… wasn’t just the guardians it took over. It sent blights to the divine beasts, to defeat the champions and take control of them. Urbosa and Daruk managed to hold them off long enough, but Revali and—Mipha…” His voice cracked almost imperceptibly upon Mipha’s name and his shoulders hunched in ill-disguised pain. He dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to maintain eye contact.

Zelda felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dropped on her head. A phantom hand clutched at her heart painfully. They were gone… her friends, they—they were… dead. And it was… her fault; all her fault. Even though she had managed to defeat Ganon in the end, she had still failed…

Zelda felt a sob rising in her throat, and pulled a hand against her mouth in an attempt to keep it from finding release between her lips. Shutting her eyes tightly, she tried to keep the tears back but a tremor overtook her, giving away the depth of her grief.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

“No…”

Her choked sob echoed through the still and silent room. He could tell from where he stood, without looking up, that she was breaking down. As soon as he’d received the news of Mipha’s death a day ago, he’d forced himself to shove the pain in a small box in his heart and lock it away. Hearing Zelda’s heartbreak threatened to release his own, but he grit his teeth and shoved the rising emotions down. Yet despite his own pain, and despite his determination to uphold royal protocol, her tears were slowly breaking his resolve to stay at a distance. He couldn’t just stand here and watch her cry, pretending everything was just fine… it was cruel, especially went he felt her pain so keenly. But he shouldn’t. He should never have come to feel as he did in the first place. He just needed to—

The sound of her sobs interrupted his warring thoughts, drawing his head up. That was a mistake. His gaze was immediately met with a very lost, heartbroken Princess sitting upon the bed, a hand over her mouth as tears streamed from anguished green eyes. His mind immediately flashed back to the spring of power, to the copse of trees where she fell in their flight from Castle Town. He hadn’t been able to stop himself then, either.

Stepping towards the bed, Link sat down gently on the edge, facing her. Though his instinct was to lay a gentle hand on her arm, he forced himself to keep his hands in his lap. He needed to maintain some decorum, if only so he could tell himself he hadn’t failed completely. He determinedly held her gaze despite the turbulent storm brewing within his heart, compassion somehow still shining through. His voice was rough but gentle when he spoke.

“We did all we could; they did too. They died a hero’s death and wouldn’t want us to mourn their loss, but to celebrate in their victory.”

A final tear rolled down her cheek as she gazed into his eyes, heartbreak and guilt plain upon her face. Link felt his heart clench, which he steadfastly tried to ignore. She took a deep, shaking breath, slowly nodding. After a moment she lifted a clumsy hand to wipe the tear stains from her cheeks. “You’re right,” she said thickly, clearing her throat before speaking again, “You’re right—I know. It’s just…” she sighed shakily, whispering, “I’d still hoped…”

Link shifted uncomfortably as a weight settled in his gut. He knew she didn’t know, and knew she’d want to know—may even be upset he’d withheld the information from her. But was it even his place to say? Should he stay silent on the subject until she inquired directly? Eying her carefully, he weighed his options. He should tell her. Get it all out at once, like ripping off an old bandage. No need to drag out the hurt. But maybe… maybe she was too vulnerable. Maybe now wasn’t the time… No, he finally decided, it was too much, too soon.

Once again, however, it seemed his body had chosen to ignore his brain. He spoke anyway.

“Princess…” he started slowly, “I—There’s something else…”

At that moment a sharp rap sounded at the partially open door. Startled, Link quickly stood up as he made to stand beside the bed, arms held stiffly at his sides. Stupid, he shouldn’t have done that. What if someone had walked in and seen! He, a simple knight, sitting in bed, alone, with the Regent of Hyrule! How would that look to a gossip-mongering maid? Stupid… This was one of the many very good reasons he had determined to keep his distance.

Zelda looked momentarily confused before tracking the sound to the door and attempting to quickly school her expression as she wiped away the last of her tears.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Clearing her throat she called with an evenness which surprised her, “Come in.”

Pushing the door further open, Impa Umbra stepped through, dressed in her traditional blue and white Sheikah garb, her silvery hair pulled neatly into a bun atop her head. A relieved smile graced her otherwise sharp features. Stepping fully into the room she bowed low. “Your highness, it is good to see you awake. We have all been worried.” Turning briefly towards Link, her eyes narrowing as she eyed him curiously before offering a simple nod, “Master Link.”

Some of her melancholy dimmed as she took in the healthy and uninjured appearance of the royal family’s oldest adviser and friend, Link’s comment momentarily forgotten. “Impa!” she sighed with relief, “It is good to see you well.” Impa offered a brief smile as she moved into the room.

“Thank you, Princess. I found myself fortunate enough to have survived the Calamity relatively unscathed.” She slowly approached Zelda’s bedside before Link quietly interjected, bowing briefly to Zelda.

“I will return to my post, your Highness.”

Zelda felt disappointment settle over her. She’d hardly gotten to speak to him… However, Impa interrupted, waving her hand in Link’s direction.

“No, no, stay, you may as well hear what I have to say as well.” She then turned back to her, a hint of apology in her features, “I wish I could say my visit is solely a personal one, but I come on behalf of the council.”

Zelda sat up a little straighter. Why would the council be seeking her out? She had fulfilled her duty… unless something further regarding the Calamity was amiss? Apprehensively, Zelda nodded for her to continue.

“First, let me say it is a great relief for us all to see you up and well. Healer Ravio were able to attend to your physical wounds, but we were unsure as to when you would wake. It seems sealing the Calamity took much from you.”

Well, that explained her utter exhaustion, she supposed. Everything after Link defeated Ganon in Central Square was a bit fuzzy. She remembered Nayru speaking to her, but after that, it was just a jumble of images and emotions. She only remembered bits and pieces of sealing the Calamity away. Perhaps more would come back to her in time.

Zelda’s thoughts suddenly stopped short, backtracking to Impa’s choice of words; they’d been unsure of when she would wake? How long had she been out?

“I don’t know if Master Link has—”

“Wait. I apologize Impa, but I must ask: how long have I been asleep?”

“Three days, your Highness.”

Zelda’s mouth fell open. Three days?! No wonder people had been worried. No wonder her nurse had seemed so shocked! Suddenly noticing her very un-Princess-like behavior, she quickly closed her mouth and nodded, trying to gather her wits.

“Oh… um, thank you. Please continue.”

“As I was saying, I’m not sure how much Link has already informed you of as to the state of the Kingdom. We still have survey teams scouting the full extent of the damage done, but initial reports suggest there will be a great deal of planning and reconstruction needed to facilitate recovery.”

Dozens of thoughts arose as she considered Impa’s words, one of the most prominent being: why was she telling her this—and why now? Zelda opened her mouth, unsure which of the questions flooding her mind she wanted to ask first, but Impa held up her hand.

“I am sure you have many questions, but they will have to wait. The council has requested your presence at the next council meeting to discuss these matters and help facilitate our next steps, and that is what I came to convey. But at present your most pressing task is recovery. I will return once you’re well to help prepare you. For now, please rest. We will next meet at the earliest your health allows.”

Zelda nodded slowly, absorbing this information. The council certainly hadn’t wasted any time; though something wasn’t quite right.

“I understand Impa, thank you. However, I am unsure as to why the council has requested my presence. Is this not a task under my father’s purview?”

An uneasy expression colored her normally stoic features, and she hesitated to respond, choosing her words carefully.

“I… had wanted to wait to inform you of this when you were more recovered. The council may disapprove of my telling you so soon, but I feel it is more than your right to know.” Zelda felt her chest constrict in anticipatory dread. Not more bad news, not about her father…

“The King… your father, was in the upper levels of the Castle when the Calamity struck, and it is the upper levels which sustained the most damage. When Ganon attacked, he was gravely injured. The castle healers and doctors were able to mend his physical injuries, however he suffered severe head trauma when the roof caved in. Princess, I am so sorry to have to bring you this news, but… your father is in a coma. It is unknown when or if he will wake.”

Zelda felt herself stop breathing. If he would wake? She was upset about the loss of Revali and Mipha, yes, they had both become dear friends; but her father… he was the only family she had left! A knot formed tightly in her throat, and Zelda could feel her breathing become fast and shallow, on the verge of hyperventilation. Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing, attempting to even out her intakes of air. No, it couldn’t be… not him… Repeatedly she tried to push the news from her mind, to put distance between herself and the painful reality, but her efforts did little to ease the desperate panic seizing her heart. Seeing her expression, Impa hastened to amend her statement.

“Much is known regarding the healing and treatment of physical wounds, but healing the brain is a less understood field of healing magic. The healers assure us that recovery is possible, but if he does wake it could be a week from now or a month from now. This is why the council has requested you—law states that in the event of the incapacitation of the ruling monarch, the next-in-line shall take their place as regent until such time as said monarch recovers enough to competently rule. There is so much that needs to be done, and done immediately; I’m so sorry you must bear this burden after enduring such an ordeal, but Hyrule needs your leadership, Princess.”

Not that long ago, she had been scrambling to unlock the sealing power necessary to defeat Calamity Ganon, and in such a short, chaotic span of time she not only accomplished that seemingly impossible task, but also battled and defeated Ganon as well. She was exhausted physically and already emotionally wrung out; and she’d been asleep for three days, for Nayru’s sake! Now she was expected to just pick herself up and rule the Kingdom? Her whole life had been about her training—she knew next to nothing of how to rule; knew so little of the intricacies of Hyrulean law! And that was ignoring the fact that for all intents and purposes she had just lost her father! It was too much. She was reeling, wide eyes fixed on no particular point behind Impa’s head as her mind buzzed with everything and nothing at the same time.

Her overwhelmed expression did not go unnoticed by Impa, and her voice was gentle as she offered reassurance. “Princess… Zelda, please, do not fret. You are young and inexperienced and the council knows this; no one expects you to be a perfect leader. I and the council will be behind you, and we will help guide you; you will not be alone. You can do this.”

Zelda refocused her gaze on Impa with difficulty, forcing herself to digest her words; Hyrule needed her. Her people needed her. She may have stopped the Calamity, but it wasn’t yet over; she still had more to do. Taking a deep breath she attempted to clear her mind, chanting in her head the mantra she had used so many times during her training when the task felt impossible to achieve: ‘One scales a mountain a single step at a time… one foot in front of the other.”

With difficulty, she offered a wan smile, her voice barely a whisper, “Thank you, Impa.”

Impa returned her sentiments with a reassuring smile of her own. “Have faith, Princess. We will get through this, together.” She then bowed, “And rest well. I will come see you again soon.” With a last, reassuring look, she then turned, nodding briefly towards Link as she exited the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Zelda slumped back against her pillows, eyes shut tight as she battled the storm of emotions within her. If she’d been exhausted when she woke, now she felt wholly and utterly drained. It was just one thing after another, and in the span of ten minutes her world had been turned upside down—again! Moisture prickled behind her eyelids and she struggled to keep the tears from falling.

Goddesses, this wasn’t fair! Had she not done her part? Had she not suffered enough?! Did the Goddess delight in tormenting her? But as quickly as her thoughts had turned to self-pity, they also turned to an inescapable fact: a Kingdom full of people, struggling just as much as she, were in dire need of aid. Despite her hazy memory, she did remember the utter destruction of Castle Town—all of those people, they had nothing and nowhere to go. Quietly, she released a shaky sigh. She was royalty; nothing would ever change that fact. This was the very purpose of her life—to lead Hyrule, and to keep its people safe. She didn’t have a choice in the matter. She needed to be stronger than this—if not for herself, then for her Kingdom. Squeezing her eyes tightly, she forced the tears back.

Link had seen her cry more than enough for a lifetime, and she didn’t need him seeing the soon-to-be regent of Hyrule in hysterics. It wouldn’t be proper.

From her right she heard the sound of boots scraping on stone, followed by Link’s quiet voice.

“You need rest, Princess. I’ll return to my post.”

Zelda’s eyes snapped open, a strangling anxiety taking hold of her as he turned to move away. Her voice was caught in her throat, preventing speech. Without a second thought for her condition and fueled by an unexplainable fear of his departure, Zelda pulled the blankets off of her and leapt out of bed, reaching an arm forward to grasp at Link’s retreating form. As her hand wrapped around his forearm, she felt words finally leave her throat, desperate and hoarse.

“Wait—Please!”

Suddenly spots filled her vision and her head grew warm and heavy, her legs weak beneath her. She tripped on the hem of her prayer gown, stumbling forward blindly. She felt Link’s warm hands around her shoulders as her hands grasped his champion’ tunic, but her vision was dim and hazy. Link’s worried voice came to her distantly.

“Princess!”

Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, she took several deep breaths to try and regain her senses. Slowly she felt the faintness pass. Without lifting her head, she spoke quietly into Link’s chest, struggling to keep tears from falling.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

“Please… don’t… do this. Don’t pretend we hadn’t become closer than this. You’re the only person… the only person left…”

Her voice was weak. He could feel her shoulders trembling under his fingers, and could feel her fisting his tunic in her hands as her body shook with the force of her distress. Raising her head to meet his eyes, her turquoise irises shone with unshed tears. Her voice shook as she struggled to continue.

“Two of the Champions are gone, and now my father, he’s… and you’re…”

The tears finally broke and and she looked away, biting her lip and tightly shutting her eyes as she struggled to reign in her emotions. Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Please don’t leave.”

Goddesses, he couldn’t do this… Link momentarily closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. He’d been determined to make his visit brief—just… to see her, to know that she was okay. All of this… It was the very opposite of what he’d intended. He needed to put distance between them. This, whatever it was, wasn’t proper—shouldn’t be. He, a simple knight, could never treat the monarch so familiarly and get away with it. Before the Calamity, maybe… But he’d been wary then, too. All eyes had been too distracted—none had noticed, and none would have likely cared under the circumstances. But now, when all eyes would be firmly fixed, critically, on the crown? Even if the King did happen to wake sooner rather than later, the scare would undoubtedly spur the him and the council to prepare her for her eventual role as the Queen of Hyrule. No matter what the future brought, there were heavy expectations upon his shoulders; obligations to be met and rules demanding adherence. When he opened his eyes again, she was gazing desperately at him. When she spoke, her voice trembled.

“I’ve already lost so much; I can’t lose you too. You’re… you’re the only one left, the only one who understands. I can’t do this all alone. Please…”

Link felt the last of his stalwart resistance crumble as he looked at her, defeated. The last thing he wanted was for her to suffer or feel alone… But how did he make her understand?

“I—things aren’t…” He exhaled a frustrated breath, running a hand agitatedly through his messy blond locks, deciding to, at least momentarily, give up on formality for the sake of honesty, “The Kingdom is in shambles; all eyes will be on you. There are… expectations. Protocols. I can’t be overly-familiar with… with the REGENT of Hyrule!” He looked at her intently, begging her to understand. She stared at him, but said nothing.

“I’m not… I’m not high born. I’m just your knight. I was appointed to protect you, nothing more. I shouldn’t even be talking to you like this, some on the council would have my head for it. I can’t just… just…”

Words failed him and he shook his head, sighing. Though the thought of just leaving her in this state on the floor and walking back to his post went against every fiber of his being, he would do it if he had to, to assert his point; he would… And yet, as she continued to stare at him intently, eyes full of sadness and grief, his feet stayed firmly rooted to the spot. Slowly, a hand released the front of his tunic and moved to rest gently on his forearm. Her brows were furrowed as she held his gaze.

“I can appreciate the position you’re in,” she said slowly, eyes determined despite the tears which still sparkled within them. Taking a breath, her voice began to steady, “I’m not asking you to break royal protocol, I’m just asking… that you don’t act like we haven’t spent the last year in constant company, like we didn’t just carry this burden together. Even if its only privately, please, just… be my friend.”

He stared at her, conflicted, but didn’t say anything for several moments; The longer he stared into the depths of desperate green eyes, however, the the more he felt his resolve evaporate. Finally, he sighed in defeat, voice soft as he responded.

“Alright… I’ll try.”

Slowly a smile, brilliant as the sun, lit up her face. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, she was… right. To pretend that over the course of this long and painful journey, they hadn’t become close was to flagrantly deny the obvious. Despite the rules and expectations of their respective stations, their relationship, whatever it was, simply didn’t fit into the roles they were forced to play.

But more than that, he cared, and he was tired of having to pretend he didn’t. So he’d try to maintain this balancing act. It would be difficult and it would be risky; and it would go against everything he’d been taught as a soldier and a royal guard. He would be leading a sort of double-life here in the castle. But he would try—for her.

Goddesses, what was he getting himself into?


	7. Friends

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 7: Friends**

“How did you feel today, overall?”

“Quite well.”

“Any more headaches, body aches… fatigue?”

“No.”

“That’s great to hear. I believe this morning’s prognosis has born out. Though, if you will bear with me Princess, I’d like to do one last treatment.”

Zelda nodded politely, expecting no less.

It had been the same thing every day the past three days; every morning and evening healer Ravio came in for a check-up and asked a series of questions, to which she responded dutifully, if wearily, each time. She understood their concern, especially with her father… They needed to make sure that the crown Princess was well and fully recovered—she was all they had. That realization alone gave her the patience to politely endure Ravio and his staff’s fussing, no matter how much it grated on her nerves.

She just wanted to be left alone… It was as if there’d been a revolving door on her chambers since her awakening, with nurses and maids and healers and Impa entering and exiting on rotation; never a moments peace except to let her sleep. A few times she had even resorted to feigning tiredness just to get a little solitude and time for her own thoughts.

Zelda lay back in bed, resting against the pile of pillows stacked against the headboard as Ravio raised his arm above her. Motioning up and down her torso, she dully tracked the soft glow emanating from her skin through her gown just below his hand, feeling the familiar sensation of warm water flowing through her as he “cleared her energy pathways” and “purified her centers of energy”. Those rare souls gifted with healing magic, Ravio especially, knew a great deal about how energy, including magical energy, was channeled through the body. Though she didn’t fully understand the finer points, her scholarly mind found it fascinating and admired Ravio’s expertise.

“All done. You are indeed well and truly recovered! I will return tomorrow to check on you before the afternoon’s council meeting. Please rest well, your Highness.”

Slowly Zelda sat back up, nodding to the man. Despite her annoyance, she was grateful. There were many in the kingdom in need of such dutiful care after the calamity who would never see it.

“Thank you, Ravio. Your efforts and attention are greatly appreciated. Make sure you get some rest as well, I imagine your time has been in high demand these past few days.”

A smile crept upon the face of the weary healer and he bowed, his mop of black hair falling into his face.

“Thank you, your Highness. I will see you in the morning.”

Turning to the chair beside her bed, an object which had become a fixture of the room to accommodate her constant rotation of visitors, he snapped his medical bag closed, taking it in hand and making his way to the door. As it opened, she could hear the hustle and bustle of nurses and doctors navigating the hall as they went from room to room, tending to their patients. She briefly caught sight of Link, just a flash of his shaggy blond hair and blue Champion’s tunic as he stepped out of the way to allow Ravio to pass before the door closed once more, leaving her in the blessed silence of an empty room.

Zelda sighed. She’d hardly had a chance to talk to Link since the night she’d awoken. Inwardly she cringed. Every time she thought back to that night, her face burned with embarrassment. Goddesses, what a pathetic excuse for a Princess she was! She was supposed to be royalty, not some damsel in distress. Groveling on the floor like that… it was shameful! If her childhood tutors could have seen her, they’d have been horrified. Sure she’d been disoriented and distraught, but she was raised and trained to be better than that. Such behavior was inexcusable, especially if she was going to rule the Kingdom, however temporarily. At least she hoped it was temporary.

And yet… she did mean what she said. She did need a friend, and he was really the only other person who understood all that she’d been through—that they’d been through. Though she was close to Urbosa, she had her hands full as chieftain of the Gerudo, laden down with her own responsibilities and concerns. When she wasn’t occupied with her duties as a Champion, something that was soon to demand less and less of her time, she was in Gerudo Town tending to the needs of her people. Her visits to the Castle were brief, and usually expressly made for the purpose of attending special council meetings with Muava, the Gerudo representative to the Royal Council.

Another sigh escaped her as she fidgeted with a lock of her hair, running her fingers through the strands absently. She didn’t regret the sentiments, just wished she could have conveyed them more… appropriately. She needed to apologize to Link somehow, but the when was proving elusive.

Though it had only been a few minutes since Ravio left, a knock sounded at the door announcing the arrival of a new visitor. Annoyance flared briefly within her—yet another moment of solitude interrupted, but she forced it away as she straightened her hair and called out calmly, “Come in.”

The door clicked and a tall, tanned figure entered into the room. Zelda’s irritation was forgotten entirely upon seeing the woman cross the threshold.

“Urbosa!”

The elegant Gerudo shut the door behind her, placing a hand on her hip as she surveyed the Princess seated on her bed with a smile.

“My little bird! You are looking well after such a battle.”

Zelda couldn’t suppress a grin as Urbosa made her way to the bed side, arms wide. She took in the whole and healthy figure of her dearest friend: save for a bandage wrapped around the length of her forearm and an oddly-shaped scar on her calf, Urbosa looked utterly untouched. As she reached the bed, Zelda was enveloped in a tight hug. She returned the sentiment wholeheartedly, relishing in the warm embrace.

“Urbosa, it is so good to see you!”

Urbosa gently released the Princess then pulled the chair closer to her and took a seat, responding warmly, “It’s good to see you too”.

“You know, you are the first person to visit over the past few days who I’m actually happy to see. It’s been nothing but healer after nurse after maid, all fussing over me.”

Urbosa chuckled, lifting one leg over the other as she settled into her seat.

“Getting the full royal treatment, then?”

Zelda gave a mocking tilt of her head.

“So it would seem.”

The Gerudo smiled in amusement. “They’ve done a good job at least, you look as fit as I’ve ever seen you; and word around Hyrule has it as quite the battle.”

Zelda’s smile faltered. “Ah, yes, the rumor-mongering. I haven’t given much thought to that.” With a self-deprecating grimace, she queried, “Dare I ask what is being said of me?”

Urbosa laughed at the Princess’ worried expression. “You needn’t fear, it is nothing bad—quite the contrary. The people are absolutely in love with you—they’re calling you the Princess of Destiny.”

Zelda did a mental double-take as she was shocked into momentary silence. A part of her had expected the people to blame her for the destruction, that her failure to unlock her powers sooner had caused what could have been easily prevented. Instead, they… loved her?

“I—what?”

Urbosa chuckled, a twinkle in her eye “Bit of a change, I know, but the citizens of Hyrule are a fickle folk. All it seems to take these days to change their minds is to turn into a floating, glowing goddess of light that can vanquish evil incarnate with the flick of a wrist.”

Zelda laughed at the exaggerated description as Urbosa pinned her with a knowing look. Well if you put it that way… But it wasn’t like she’d really done much, Link was the one who’d had to face the beast head-on.

A mischeivious expression stole over the Gerudo’s face as she spoke once more.

“Yes, the talk of the town is quite in your favor. If anyone has anything to fear, it would be Link.”

Zelda cocked her head in confusion, mind still stuck on the idea that her people might actually think positively of her for once. “Link? Why would he have something to fear?”

Urbosa smiled slyly, gesticulating with her hands and bangle bracelets jingling as she spoke, “Oh, he has a fan club now, filled with… swooning fangirls.” She said the word with an odd combination of humor and distaste, “They are calling him the ‘Hero of Hyrule’, the most talented warrior and the most eligible bachelor in all the Kingdom. I must have heard dozens of young women declare their intent to marry the ‘dreamy hero’ on my way here. Even the castle maids can’t stop talking about him.”

Fangirls? As her mind wrapped around the phrase, Zelda burst into a fit of giggles. “Re-really?” she laughed, struggling to maintain her composure. She imagined Link running pell-mell out of Menoat with a dozen screaming, swooning women hot on his heels waving tokens in the air. The thought only made her laugh harder.

Urbosa chuckled with her, offering an amused expression. “I tell no lies.”

As her laughter faded, a smile spread across Zelda’s face and the two fell into a companionable silence. She felt lighter, less weighed down by her worries; Urbosa always knew how to lift her mood. 

“Thank you for coming, Urbosa. It’s been a stressful few days and it’s nice to be able to relax for once.”

Urbosa raised an eyebrow, “Isn’t that what you were supposed to be doing all this time? Those docs haven’t been running you ragged, have they?”

Zelda gave a breathy laugh, “I appreciate and understand their concern, but it has been a bit much. I’ve barely had a moment to myself since I awoke.”

Urbosa eyed her consolingly. “I’m sure they mean well. But in any case, I’m glad I can offer some peace.”

Urbosa reached forward to grip Zelda’s hand, giving a gentle squeeze, which she returned appreciatively. Looking down where their hands met her eyes were caught by the bandage wrapped around her forearm. Without thinking she reached forward with her free hand towards the wrapping. At her unexpected touch Urbosa shirked away, wincing. The Princess’ eyes softened as she gazed at the covered wound, guilt welling unexpectedly within her. Urbosa quickly noticed her change of mood and spoke up. Waving her free hand as though she could bat away Zelda’s worries, she spoke airily.

“It’s fine, Princess, no need to worry. It will heal soon enough.”

But Zelda could see through Urbosa’s efforts, had begun to notice the way she favored it. Whatever it was, it had been serious, and despite treatment it still hurt.

“What happened?” in the divine beast? The latter half of the question remained unspoken, but it was understood regardless. Zelda watched her friend closely. She knew it would probably hurt to hear, but she had to know. She had to know what she’d caused. Urbosa met her gaze carefully before giving a resigned sigh.

“Ganon sent a blight to infest Vah Nabooris. It was a great, black beast which possessed Nabooris’ powers. It attacked with lightning, and towards the end of my battle with it, it got lucky. Lightning struck my shield, and it exploded on my arm.” She released Zelda’s hand to raise her bandaged arm as she gave a carefully calculated shrug, as though to convey the casual nature of it all.

A pit settled into Zelda’s stomach. If only she’d unlocked her power sooner… Briefly, Zelda glanced from Urbosa’s arm to her face—to the kind eyes which had comforted her throughout so much of her childhood, the thick eyebrows she used to waggle to amuse her when they hid indoors on a hot day in Gerudo Town, and the friendly smile that always managed to cheer her. Urbosa was like the older sister she never had, one who had always looked out for her. And once the tables had been reversed, she’d failed to live up to the task.

Zelda’s hand hovered above the bandage, wanting so badly to soothe her pain but afraid of touching the still-tender wound. Briefly, she darted her eyes up, and Urbosa’s gentle expression said the very thing Zelda needed to hear: ‘It’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you’. A surge of emotion flowed through her, equal parts affection and determination. She wouldn’t fail to protect those she loved again. She wouldn’t.

Suddenly a bright light surged from beneath her hand, momentarily blinding and disorienting her. With a gasp of surprise both women looked away. As the light dimmed, Zelda cracked her eyes open, glancing towards where she’d thought the light to have come from. What was that? Urbosa gazed in dumbfounded shock at her arm, which she quickly withdrew. With nimble fingers she began to rapidly remove the bandage with her other hand.

“Urbosa?” Zelda queried, unsure.

As she began to reveal the skin of her arm—dark amber and unblemished, Urbosa’s eyes widened in surprise. Increasing the speed at which she pulled the bandage from her arm, more unblemished skin appeared. As the last of the wrapping was pulled away, she raised her head to meet Zelda’s baffled expression, face slowly transforming into an impressed grin.

“Well look at you! Savior of Hyrule and healer extraordinaries!”

Zelda was baffled. She looked from Urbosa’s arm to her grinning face, then back again, struggling to grasp what she’d done. What had she done?

“I—well… I… had no idea I could… do that,” she finished lamely.

Urbosa chuckled, running a hand over her newly healed arm in appreciative surprise, “Well, I’m glad you can, and that you did. You saved me many months of frustration.” 

As her shock and confusion slowly faded—after all, what was one more shocker to add to her ever-increasing list?—Zelda smiled. It seemed there was a good deal more to her powers than she thought. And though what she really wished was to have spared Urbosa the injury in the first place, she was glad she could at least ease the aftermath. Even if she didn’t know how she’d done it, or how she could ever repeat it.

Urbosa raised her head to meet the Princess’ gaze, smiling. Lifting a hand forward to brush away a stray strand of hair from Zelda’s face, she spoke tenderly. “You really are quite special, Princess. You will make a wonderful Regent.”

At the mention of her upcoming ascension, Zelda felt a weight settle in the pit of her stomach but did her best to keep her expression light. She appreciated the complement, but she was currently trying very hard not to think about the following day’s council meeting.

A knock came at the door, pulling Zelda from her thoughts. Both women turned.

“Come in!” Zelda called

The door slowly creaked open and a young maid with a thick Lake accent stepped through carrying a silver platter laden with food. Catching Urposa’s eye, she bowed hastily.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Lady Urbosa, but ‘tis ‘er Highness’ dinnertime.”

The maid stepped through and closed the door softly behind. As she made her way to the desk set beneath the tiled glass window, plates carefully balanced by delicate footfalls, Urbosa turned back to Zelda.

“Ah, I suppose I should be getting something to eat, too. I’ll leave you to your dinner,” Reaching out to grasp her hand once more, Urbosa offered a light squeeze and a tender smile, “I’m so glad to see you doing well.”

Zelda smiled in return, surprised at how sad she felt to see Urbosa go.

“Thanks for stopping in to see me. It was good to see you,”

“You too, little bird.” Offering a small wave and a grin, she turned and left through the door.

A light clatter sounded from across the room as the maid placed her meal atop the table. She smiled jovially as she turned to face her, curly red hair bouncing as she gestured at the platter.

“Tonight ‘tis Chef Pumm’s famous Pun’kin soup! Enjoy, yer Highness!”

Zelda smiled wanly, attempting to be polite. As soon as Urbosa had shut the door behind her, much of her cheer seemed to have departed as well.

“Thank you, Meredith. I’m sure its delicious.”

Meredith stepped towards the door, still smiling broadly; but she didn’t immediately leave.

“I… If I may be so bold, yer Highness, I’d like to say that all of us down in th’ kitchen are so ‘appy t’ see you doin’ well. Why, if it weren’t for you an’ Master Link, well, we prob’ly wouldn’t be ‘ere! So… thank you, yer Highness—for keepin’ us all safe.”

Zelda stared uncomprehending for several moments before the maid’s words processed. No one had… thanked her. The very notion seemed somehow silly. She’d always viewed sealing the Calamity as just a part of her duty as the Princess of Hyrule, just as she would perform the opening blessing at the Necluda harvest festival. And with all the judgment and anger that had been directed towards her prior to the calamity for her failure to unlock her power over the course of her ten years of training, this strange new world of appreciation and admiration was utterly and unnervingly foreign. Despite that, however, Zelda felt warmth stir in her chest at the maid’s heartfelt words, and she smiled in response. “Thank you, Meredith. That is… really very kind of you.”

Meredith seemed to grin a little brighter, bowing deeply before the seated Princess.

“Yer very welcome, yer Highness. Please enjoy!”

With that the maid turned on her heel and stepped through the doorway and out into the hall, shutting the door behind her with a firm click.

Once she was well and truly alone, Zelda let out a breath, feeling the day wash over her. Lifting the covers from her, she swung her legs out of bed, placing her bare feet upon the woolen rug. Hauling herself from the warmth of her sheets, she reached for her dressing gown, tying it tightly around her to ward off the encroaching evening chill. She settled herself comfortably in the cushioned chair before the desk, eying the array of dishware before her with faraway eyes. Moonlight filtered in through the glass windows and onto the desk in distorted patterns—a full moon was rising tonight. She sighed softly.

Somehow, despite Urbosa’s visit and Meredith’s kind words, any peace they’d brought had quickly faded into the silence, and she was left feeling as flat and pale as the moonlight illuminating her desk.

The smell of rich cream and hearty pumpkin and tangy spices reached her nose. Lifting a spoonful to her mouth she blew delicately before taking a sip. Chef Pimm had once again proved his mastery over squash. Yet despite the richness of the flavor upon her tongue and the appreciative gurgle of her hungry stomach, she felt little in the way of appetite.

“You are looking well after such a battle.”

“…all of us down in th’ kitchen are so ‘appy t’ see you doin’ well…”

Zelda took another sip. She supposed she was doing much better. The first day she’d barely been able to get out of bed. After 3 days of rest under healer Ravio’s care, she was good as new—or so he declared her to be. So why did she feel so… not well? She knew physically she was fit as a fiddle. She’d regained much of her energy, and any cuts or bruises were gone; but she couldn’t shake a deep sense of ill unease.

As the day had worn on—as she had, for the first time since waking, turned her attention towards what was still to come—she’d begun to realize all that she was already burdened with as one by one problems and worries and regrets began to surface, floating through her mind like debris on the surface of a still pond: glaring and ever-present. Perhaps it was stress.

Zelda took another slow sip.

The past three days had been a whirlwind, despite being largely confined to bed as she recuperated. So much had happened in so short a time, and so much had been dropped on her all at once. She knew what she had to do and what was expected of her, and she would do it to the best of her ability; but her feelings on the matter… she hadn’t touched that Pandora’s box. She was afraid to. She hadn’t yet even seen her father, despite the fact that he was only on the other side of the wing. The doctors insisted she postpone such an emotionally draining venture until after the council meeting, at least. The loss of Revali and Mipha still felt like a distant nightmare—sometimes she had to remind herself that they were truly gone.

And… the people loved her? Somehow, that seemed harder to wrap her mind around than the idea of Link having a fan club.

Finished, Zelda gently set down her spoon staring unseeingly at her empty bowl. Her thoughts were becoming too much. Pushing aside her dinner tray, she pulled open the desk’s single drawer and pulled from it’s confines her diary and a pen.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Previously, Link had never minded guarding the Princess in the castle. They would walk through the halls together and she would talk endlessly as she was wont to do. He enjoyed listening to her—she always had something new and interesting to share. When she would work in her bedroom or study he would accompany her; there were too many points of entry in her chambers, and his duty as her protector was best served beside her. It was never dull—she would sometimes excitedly bounce new theories off him, which she would immediately retract or modify before he’d even said a word. Sometimes she would tinker with guardian parts. One time she accidentally caused an arm to flail wildly across the floor, knocking into the bookshelf and toppling it.

But her new temporary room was far more secure than her usual chambers; he suspected this was Impa’s doing—an effort to ensure no possible breaches in security while the military was in such shambles. There was no balcony, only a trio of small glass tiled windows too small to enter through. Thus, the best place for him to ensure no harm came to her was by standing guard outside the door, alone.

One would have thought it to be a fairly quiet and solitary job, but the Princess had been extremely popular since her awakening. He instead felt more like a bouncer at one of the popular late-night bars in Castle Town (or at least the ones that had been there before the Calamity), screening all those who came to see the Princess and turning away those who did not make the list; Impa had even given him an actual list, which he had quickly memorized and tucked in his pocket. He didn’t particularly like having to be so social—one of the things he’d always appreciated about being appointed to guard Zelda was that she was always more than willing to do the talking; but his desires came second to her safety. And so he stood, Master Sword resting vertically on the stone as he gripped the pommel, holding a running tally in his head on the number of people who had come to see her today out of want for something more interesting to do. So far the count was 23.

The hall quieted as darkness fell. Doctors and nurses had made their final rounds some time ago, leaving the hall empty and still; that was, until the silence was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps, which drew Link’s attention to the northern entrance. Moving with a purposeful stride, Impa entered the hall carrying a stack of books with several papers sandwiched between them. Waving with her free hand, she walked quickly towards him.

“Ah, Link, I’m glad you’re on duty.”

24… Link stood where he was, eying her curiously as he waited for her to reach him. She seemed frazzled and tired, with several hairs dangling out of her bun. Without preamble she extended the stack of books towards him, practically shoving them into his chest.

“Please give these to the Princess, and tell her I will be by tomorrow morning instead of tonight to prepare her for the council meeting; and please pass along my apologies. I’m needed urgently elsewhere.”

Without further comment she turned and strode hurriedly back down the hall, Link watching her go with a degree of bafflement. Looking down at the load in his arms, gold gilding spelled out “Laws of Succession in the Kingdom of Hyrule” over the cover of the large brown leather tome topping the stack. Choosing not to question the councilor—she had seemed somewhat overwhelmed the past few days—he turned around and leveraged the stack in one arm and rapped sharply on the door with the other.

“Come in!”

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Turning in her seat, she was surprised to see Link struggling to enter the room, arms full of books as he kicked the door closed with his foot. As he turned to face her he cleared his throat awkwardly, lifting the stack slightly in reference as he spoke.

“I’m sorry to interrupt; Impa asked me to bring you these. She wishes to pass on her apologies, but she’ll be unable to see you tonight and will instead be by in the morning.”

Zelda’s eyes flicked briefly to the stack in his arms, recognizing several of the volumes as the primers Impa had promised for the emergency council meeting tomorrow afternoon; but her mind gave only partial attention to his message. She was more focused on the fact that he was here, and they were alone. This was the when, her chance to apologize. Though she wished she were wearing something more dignified than her nightgown and dressing robe, she would just have to make it work. Standing, she straightened and stepped away from the desk, gesturing to the empty surface space her diary had occupied a short time ago.

“You can set them here, thank you.”

A sudden nervousness seized her as he approached, which she tried to push away as he set the books down upon the desk. She reminded herself of his promise—he said he would try… But still she was afraid he would turn into a blank slate once more—expression empty and words formal, as he had the night she’d awoken; the way so many nobles and guards and foreign dignitaries had treated her throughout her life. Pushing aside her worries she gathered her courage, laying a gentle hand on his arm as he turned for the door.

“Link, wait.”

He stopped mid-stride, turning towards her with his head cocked in inquiry. It was now or never.

“I’m glad you’re here, I… wanted to apologize, for a few nights ago.” She released his arm, but embarrassment kept her face glued to the floor. She gently clasped her hands before her, fidgeting with her fingers. “I acted… out of character, and though my sentiments were sincere, I wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

She chanced a look up at his face, meeting his eyes. They were piercing, gazing at her with an unnerving intensity. Despite her discomfort she forced herself onward.

“I also wanted to apologize for the position I must have put you in. I know perhaps better than anyone the suffocating strictures and formalities of castle life. My only hope is that we can, in moments like these, speak with each other openly and honestly.”

She forced her fidgeting hands still as she waited for a response. Link continued to stare at her, and as the seconds stretched on she began to feel like this was a mistake; but, finally, after several moments more, he smiled kindly.

“It’s alright.”

Zelda felt immense relief as the tension in her posture eased. He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment before finding the right words. “You were right; I was trying to pretend the past year didn’t exist. We’ve… been through a lot together.”

He paused, Zelda encouraging him with a nod of her head.

“I was trained and am expected to behave a certain way around you. Being back here, in the castle, those expectations are… more pressing, especially now that the Calamity has been defeated. I only worry about what might happen if I’m seen acting too familiarly with you, especially once you’re Regent…”

Zelda let out a small breath and smiled. His concerns were reasonable, justified… she could work with this.

“I can respect that, and will be conscious not to put you in a compromising position. I just… want us to be able to do this,” she gestured with her hand between the two of them, “Talk.”

She sighed, frowning slightly as she looked away, adding, “I don’t really have anyone else to talk to, at least no one who understands, or who will not cow to my crown.”

Link eyed her thoughtfully, “How do you know I will not cow to your crown?”

She smiled wryly, glancing briefly to the Master Sword strapped to his back. “You’re much too noble to forsake truth to power; perhaps that is why the sword chose you.”

He cocked his head before, slowly, he smiled.

“Maybe.”

Companionable silence hung between them and Zelda felt a weight lift off her chest. It seemed her concerns had been unnecessary, and for that she was grateful; she had… missed him. After a moment more, Link interrupted the silence with an apologetic look.

“I should go. I don’t want a maid to notice my absence.”

Zelda eyed him curiously. A maid? Why would that be a concern? It was almost ten o’clock at night. “Why would any maids be around at this hour?”

Link rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, “They’ve been hanging around in the hall a lot, at all hours of the day. I don’t really know why, they don’t seem to be doing anything.”

Zelda stared for a moment before the pieces suddenly clicked—an image of Link stoic and stalwart before her door as young women peered with girlish glee from behind a nearby corner. Her eyes widened momentarily before peals of laughter unexpectedly burst from her lips. Most of the maids were single women under 30…

Link looked genuinely baffled, “What? What did I…”

“Urbosa, she… she shared some interesting news with me today,” laughter escaped her though she attempted to compose herself, “It’s something I think you may be interested to know.”

Silently Link nodded, urging her on, expression still one of confusion. Having finally reigned in her amusement Zelda paused, a Cheshire grin on her face as she savored the moment.

“Link, you have… fangirls.”

Link stared at her blankly for several moments before a distinct blush began to color his cheeks.

“I—what?”

Zelda laughed again, “Yes, according to Urbosa you are the ‘most eligible bachelor in all of Hyrule’ in the eyes of the single female populace. I suspect some of the castle maids may be part of your fan club.”

Seeing his rising blush and uncomfortable disposition, some of her humor faded, though she couldn’t suppress her smile, “I’m sorry, Link, I don’t mean to make fun.”

He ran a hand through his hair several times, eyes far away as his blush slowly receded, “No, no, it’s alright. It does explain… a lot.”

Zelda couldn’t help another giggle, shooing him away with a gesture of her hands.

“Well, off you go, then, your admirers await.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he bowed slightly.

“Goodnight, Princess.”

She eyed him a moment. Hm. ‘Princess’. Well, one step at a time… Still, she smiled as she bid him goodnight.

“Goodnight, Link.”

With that, he turned for the door, closing it behind him with a soft click. Though many changes were to come, and though she wasn’t quite sure of herself, at least, between her and Link, everything would be alright.


	8. The Calm Before

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 8: The Calm Before**

Zelda stared into the floor-length mirror in her temporary bedroom, smoothing out the front of her dress before self-consciously straightening the diadem atop her head. It felt like an eon ago that she last wore a formal gown. No, actually, she could remember the last time she’d worn a formal gown; she had just returned to the castle from the Spring of Courage and argued with her father outside of her bedroom, where he’d caught her absorbed watching the guardian experiments instead of trying to unlock her powers. Goddesses, was that really the last time she’d seen him? Was that the last he’d seen of her? A disobedient, petulant child?

Zelda shut her eyes, willing the tidal wave of emotion she could feel building up inside of her back into its box. It had been like this all morning. Though difficult, she had so far kept her rising emotions at bay and she wasn’t going to let herself slip up; she had too much still to do and her feelings could wait. Today marked the first official day of her recovery, and thus the day of the emergency council meeting. There were more important matters at hand.

However, thinking of the upcoming meeting did little to ease her frazzled nerves. The same recursive thoughts kept cutting through her attempts at self-assurance every time she imagined herself sitting at that table in the council chambers: ‘What if I make a fool of myself? What if I make bad decisions? What if I fail?’

Her thoughts were cut short by a knock at the door. Turning from the mirror, Zelda headed for the desk as she called out, “Come In!”

Impa stepped into the room holding a stack of paper and a leather-bound journal. Shutting the door behind her, she bowed briefly before moving towards the desk where Zelda had seated herself.

“Good morning, Princess; I hope you slept well. Are you ready to go over material for the council meeting?”

Zelda cast her a sidelong glance, withholding the heavy sigh she longed to release.

No. “Yes.”

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Link sheared off another sliver of wood, slowly turning the block in his hand. His mind wandered as he worked, darting from place to place, thought to thought, never settling for too long as the carving periodically demanded his full attention. He was enjoying the cool shade of a lone apple tree in the garden courtyard outside of the east wing, resting his back against the trunk, enjoying what could possibly be his last bit of free time for a long while. The council meeting began that afternoon, and after that, most likely, non-stop chaos.

Carving relaxed him and he hadn’t done it in ages, not since before he drew the Master Sword. It was an activity he and his father had found to bond over during his “difficult pre-teen years”, as his mother used to say, when he and his father were constantly at odds. He was out of practice, but with each slice his hands felt a little more familiar with the motions, a little more adept. He was carving out a petal when he heard a familiar coo-ing, quickly growing louder.

Lifting his head, Link caught sight of something he had not expected to see: his father’s carrier pigeon Sheerow, flapping dusty gray wings with gusto as he battled the castle breezes on a path straight towards him. Setting his carving on the ground and standing, he extended his arm, watching with surprise as the bird cooed, landing lightly on his forearm. Sheerow ruffled its feathers before folding its wings and eying Link with black, beady eyes and a cocked head.

On its leg was tied a small brown tube, large enough for a small note and minuscule pencil. The bird watched attentively as he unclipped the tube from its leg, paying special attention to the movement of his fingers. Link chuckled. “Sorry, Sheerow, but I don’t have any birdseed for you.” As he pulled the tube away, he thrust his arm up to signal the bird’s release. With disappointment, the pigeon flew away and landed on a branch of the apple tree before arching its head to preen its feathers.

Turning his attention to the object in his hands, Link smiled. He hadn’t had much opportunity to think about his family in the chaos of the past week. He hadn’t been too worried for their safety given how far from Hyrule Field they lived. His father had been a decorated knight of the Royal Guard—he knew he could protect himself and his mother should anything happen. Still though, it was comforting that they’d sent word.

Pulling the small cap off the tube, he tipped its contents into the palm of his hand. He unrolled the paper, quickly reading through the cramped shorthand used by soldiers of the Hyrulean military.

“Link,  
I hope this reaches you. Your mother, Aryll, Walton, and I are safe and well. Hateno and Lurelin suffered little in the Calamity, but post has been disrupted. How do you fare? Word has it you and the Princess are alive and well, but your mother worries.  
Bertram”

Link reread the brief note, feeling warmth stir in his chest and a smile rise to his lips. His father always did like to use his mother as a foil. Turning the small slip of paper over, Link took the tiny pencil in hand and began a reply:

“Father,  
Grateful to hear you are all safe. I am well, as is the Princess. Severe damage to the castle and Castle Town, but recovery efforts are underway. Tell Mother not to worry.  
Link”

Rolling the paper tightly around the pencil, he stuffed it back inside the tube and capped it. Raising his arm he whistled lowly, signaling for Sheerow’s return. Securing the tube to the bird’s leg, he thrust his arm into the air and the bird took off, spiraling higher on an updraft before heading southeast towards Hateno.

Link watched the bird go with a bittersweet smile. After all that had happened, seeing Sheerow again, he couldn’t help but feel the tug of homesickness.

“Little guy! Hey, little guy!”

The deep, boisterous voice echoed across the courtyard, drawing Link’s attention from the retreating bird. Turning, Link grinned at the sight which met him. Daruk waved at him from across the courtyard animatedly. Seeing he had Link’s attention, he jumped up and rolled his way down the path. With an unexpected amount of force, he was captured by strong, rocky arms and squeezed tightly, knocking the air from his lungs.

“It’s good to see you, Link!”

Caught between joy and suffocation, Link choked out, “Good… to s-see yhou t-too.”

Finally released from Daruk’s strong grip, Link doubled over, coughing and gasping for breath. He’d long since become accustomed to Daruk’s over-eager form of greeting, but it didn’t mean he enjoyed the stranglehold. As usual, Daruk looked chagrined, raising a hand to awkwardly ruffle his bushy white hair.

“Ah, gee, sorry.”

Link waved him off, finally catching his breath and raising himself to stand upright; he was happy to see him. Though he knew he’d survived his ordeal in Vah Rudania, an anxious part of him had felt restless until the proof was before him.

“No worries. What are you doing here?”

Daruk grinned, “Yunobo had to make the trip down from the mountain for the council meeting so I thought I’d join him, maybe say hi to you and the Princess. Speaking of which, where is the Princess?” he asked, looking around the courtyard.

“In her chambers. I’ve got the morning off. Impa says it’ll be my last bit of free time for a while. Barlow and Dorian are on duty.”

Daruk laughed, “Ah, the good Councilor is running you ragged, is she?”

Link shrugged, lowering himself back to the ground and picking up his wood block and knife, “Short-handed.” He didn’t mention the military losses—didn’t particularly want to think about it; Daruk would find out eventually, if not by word of mouth then from his son Yunobo who would no doubt be briefed on the matter during the council meeting. The Goron plopped down onto the ground beneath the tree beside him, generating a small quake as Link paused to consider his next cut. Daruk eyed the work in his hand with curiosity.

“Hey, that’s nice! I didn’t know you could carve.”

Link twisted the object in his hand, considering his work.

“Thanks. It’s an old hobby.”

The two sat in companionable silence for a while as Link sheared more off the block. Occasionally one or the other would say something—Daruk inquired as to his subject for the carving (a Silent Princess), Link asked how Goron City was doing (cleaning up the boulders Vah Rudania had sent raining down from the mountain but otherwise well)—but for the most part they simply enjoyed the others’ company; such was their way. After a while, Daruk began scratching at his beard awkwardly, leaning in close and speaking with confusion.

“Hey, little guy, I don’t know if you noticed, but there are a bunch of maids watching you from behind the fence… what’s that about?”

Link’s head shot up, turning towards the fence and spotting four young women peering over the top and giggling in hushed voices. Once they realized they’d been spotted they quickly ducked their heads, moving out of sight. Link stared after them with consternation before sighing. Making to stand, Daruk followed suit curiously as he gestured towards the pathway which led back to his room in the east wing. So much for a peaceful morning outside.

With resigned frustration, he answered flatly, “My fan club.”

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

“Now that you’ve got an idea of procedure, let’s move on to this meeting’s subject matter.”

They’d only been at it an hour and already Zelda felt beleaguered. However, a knock sounded at the door interrupted their review and Zelda breathed a sigh of relief. She needed a break. Lifting her head from the hefty stack of documents Impa had placed before her, she turned in her chair towards the door.

“Come in!”

As the door opened, the familiar curly red hair of Meredith appeared, followed by the rest of her with lunch tray in hand.

“Good afternoon yer Highness!” she announced in her chipper sing-song voice. Noticing Impa off to the side, she added, “Oh, good afternoon counc’lor! Would ya like me ‘t bring ya anythin’ from the kitchen?”

“No, thank you. I already ate.”

“As ya please.”

As Meredith set the tray down on the desk before Zelda, she felt her stomach rumble quietly in appreciation. She was in need of sustenance to fuel her brain’s slog through all the procedure and census data and ledgers and charts. She offered her a wan smile.

“Thank you, Meredith.”

“Of course, yer Highness. Enjoy!”

Zelda picked up a warm biscuit as Impa wasted no time returning to the matters at hand. Spreading out the stack of papers, she continued.

“These are the primary concerns I would like to see addressed in this meeting,” she said, gesturing to the topmost pages laid out before her, “They are the most pressing, and unfortunately, will likely generate a good deal of disagreement and subsequent discussion.”

Spreading butter across the steaming biscuit, Zelda forced her attention to the documents, trying to focus on the tiny, cramped writing which covered the pages.

-:-:-:-

By the time Impa departed an hour later, Zelda felt worn out and overtaxed, and the most stressful part of the day hadn’t even yet begun. Link had returned to his post outside her door a short while ago and she anxiously awaited her final visitor before the council meeting, healer Ravio.

She had decided she needed to talk to someone about what she’d done to Urbosa’s arm and Ravio was the best healer in Hyrule, second only to Mipha. Though it seemed unlikely she would have time to pursue mastery of healing magic any time soon, she at least wanted to broach the subject—if for no other reason than to sate her own academic curiosities. Right on time, a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” she called from where she sat on the edge of the bed.

Healer Ravio entered carrying his medical bag in one hand and closing the door behind him with the other.

“Good afternoon Princess!” He greeted amiably, setting his bag on the chair beside her, “How are you faring today?”

Zelda offered a polite smile and after additional pleasantries he went about his routine, lifting her wrist to check her pulse, resting a hand to her forehead to check her temperature, a critical look in each eye, then a tongue depressor in her mouth to get a look at the back of her throat. After his usual retinue of questions (’How have you felt today so far?’ and ‘Do you feel any aches or fatigue?’), he seemed satisfied. However as he prepared to close up his medical kit, she politely interrupted his lecture on the importance of proper hydration to ask the questions that had been burning on her tongue since his arrival.

“I apologize, healer Ravio, I don’t mean to be rude but I was hoping to ask you a couple questions before you go.”

Ravio stopped, his hands on the buckle of his bag as he looked up to her curiously.

“Of course, your highness.” He nodded politely for her to continue.

Zelda hesitated, “I… I would ask that this stays between us, at least for the time being, or at least until I come to better understand it.”

Ravio looked even more curious and a touch confused, but nodded anyway.

“Of course, Princess.”

“Yesterday Lady Urbosa came to visit and I seem to have… somewhat unintentionally, healed the wound on her arm.”

Ravio gazed at her, uncomprehending for several moment, before his eyes widened.

“Really?!”

Zelda nodded, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She was nervous to be talking about it, though she couldn’t fathom why. “Yes. I don’t know how I did it—I didn’t even know I could until it happened. So I was wondering if you could perhaps explain to me how exactly healing magic works. Is it common for such a skill to develop at such a delay?”

Ravio’s weariness seemed to vanish, replaced by a boyish excitement as he looked to her with enthusiasm.

“Absolutely, your Highness! This is quite remarkable, you see, as healing magic doesn’t typically develop later in life and it is usually an inherited trait; but to my knowledge none of your recent ancestors possessed the gift?”

Zelda nodded attentively. Part of her wished she had her research journal with her to take notes in, but her own memory would simply have to do.

“It makes sense that it was Lady Urbosa, as you see healing magic is dependent upon two things: compassion, and will. I know you two are close, and it requires compassion for the patient and love within your heart to manifest healing magic. It requires will to use it. What were you doing immediately prior to the moment the healing occurred?”

Zelda thought back, trying to remember her actions and state of mind. “She had come to visit me and while she was sitting next to me I touched her bandaged arm. She flinched when I did, and I began to realize how serious her injury was. I felt… sad. I wished I hadn’t—” Zelda stopped herself short, on the verge of admitting to the severity of her guilt. While she knew anything said to Ravio was confidential, she was far from feeling ready to talk about it. “I wished there was something I could do to make it better.”

Ravio nodded sagely. “Such situations are often the circumstances in which those gifted with healing magic manifest their ability for the first time. That is how healers are identified. At some point, often during their early childhood, they just… heal someone or something. What is so remarkable and so unusual is that it has taken this long for you to manifest your abilities. Is there anyone in your family who has possessed the gift?”

Zelda shook her head. “No, not that I know of.”

“Hm.” Ravio looked thoughtful, gazing into the distance with a furrowed brow.

“Is it…” she hesitated, but decided it couldn’t hurt to ask, “Could it be possible this healing magic is connected to my sealing power?”

Ravio returned her attention to her. “That I could not say. I know too little about the royal family’s ancient sealing power to speculate. My expertise is really only in traditional medicine and healing magic; in its use, application, and development.”

Zelda remained silent for a moment, mulling things over. “So… say I were to bruise or cut myself. How would I go about using this healing magic to mend those wounds?”

Ravio smiled, though a seriousness pervaded his gaze, “This is the first thing I teach every young pupil of mine as they begin learning to master their gifts: You cannot heal yourself. Healing is a selfless act, and as such healing magic cannot be used on the self. I have, in the past, had pupils who discovered their gifts and experimented with them prior to formal training. They grew reckless in their actions, thinking that any injuries could be easily mended—only to discover when they needed their powers the most they were not available to them. I caution you not to become reckless in light of this newfound ability.”

Zelda nodded, taking in the sudden seriousness of his expression. “I understand.”

“That being said, healing the basic injuries of others is a relatively simple matter. As I mentioned, compassion will draw forth your magic, and your will releases it. You must first feel for your patient—empathize with their pain or discomfort. Once you have made an emotional connection, you must then will that magic into existence, pulling it out from within you and into the world. You must not simply wish for your magic to mend your patient’s wounds, but you must also believe that it can and will do so. Conviction is key.”

Zelda nodded, fascinated by his explanation. Her mind was processing and questioning and hypothesizing, with too many question developing and not enough time, she knew, to explore them all.

“I see.” She paused, briefly debating which line of questioning she wanted to pursue—deciding, as usual, on the most complex topic first. “You mention willing the magic into existence. What exactly is healing magic? Does it have a sensation? A physical form? Chemical properties? Is it gaseous, or…”

To her surprise, Ravio started laughing. Zelda slowly closed her mouth, feeling both affronted and foolish, and feeling warmth creep up her cheeks.

“Princess, I wish I could answer your questions, but I often ask myself the same ones. That is entering into the field of magic theory, and there are few books on the subject and even fewer scholars, if any still exist.”

Zelda felt the heat fade from her cheeks, feeling less foolish knowing she was not alone in her curiosity. However his statement only made her curiosity grow.

“Do you know why? It seems like a fascinating field, and something of tremendous academic value. Why is it not studied?”

He shrugged. “Scarcity. There are only a few of us capable of wielding any kind of magic at all. I teach young healers how to master their gift because if I didn’t no one else would, or could. There are simply not enough of us.”

Zelda eyed him curiously. “Why are there so few? Is it perhaps a recessive gene of some sort? But other recessive genes, such as blond hair or blue eyes, have not experienced such rarity…”

Ravio offered a sad, rueful smile, “Though I wish I did, I do not know. Legend speaks of a time hundreds of centuries past in which magic was bountiful in Hyrule, as common as any blue eyed, blond haired maiden. I couldn’t say, nor begin to imagine what happened in our history to change that. Remnants still linger: you and I and all the others who possess healing magic, a handful of magical relics, the three ancient dragons and the great fairy fountains. Though few have seen either of the latter two, we know them to still exist somewhere out in the world. I suspect it is simply one of life’s great mysteries.”

Ravio left a short time after, the Princess thanking him profusely for his guidance as he departed. However, despite the questions he was able to answer about healing magic, he left her with many more she hadn’t anticipated. What was healing magic, for instance? Was it an object? A chemical compound? Some sort of… essence? His inability to answer that question had left her scholarly mind extremely dissatisfied. And what of the magic in Hyrule? Why had it faded?

Though she longed to ponder these and many other questions, though she wished with all her heart to simply depart for the library and bury her nose in the pages of its many books for the rest of the day, a quick glance at the clock served as an uncomfortable reminder of her upcoming duties and obligations. The council meeting was in an hour. She would be made regent in an hour. With a sigh, she delicately rubbed her temples, forcing her mind onto other matters. Rising from the bed, she made for the desk where the books and papers Impa had given her sat, awaiting her returned attentions.

-:-:-:-

As the time for her to leave for the council chamber approached, she found herself standing before her mirror once more, smoothing out the front of her dress before self-consciously straightening the diadem atop her head.

This was happening; it was real, and worry was beginning to gnaw at her relentlessly. What if she made a fool of herself? What if she made bad decisions?

What if she failed?

Taking a deep breath, Zelda closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. No, she couldn’t think like that. Impa had prepped her, she had a good head on her shoulders; she could do this.

Another knock sounded at the door. Glancing to the clock, she already knew who it was.

“Come In!”

Link stepped through the door, bowing briefly to her.

“It’s time for the council meeting, Princess. Are you ready?”

Butterflies erupted in her stomach, but she pointedly ignored it. Grabbing the sheaf of papers and journal Impa had given her, she tucked them under her arm, shoulders back and head held high. Turning, she headed towards the door with put-on calm where Link stood, waiting.

No. “Yes.”


	9. The Royal Council

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 9: The Royal Council**

The swish of her skirts and the tapping of her footsteps filled the hall in tandem with the heavy footfalls of Link’s boots as he trailed behind her. With difficulty she kept her thoughts buried in the procedure Impa had reviewed with her that morning in an attempt to keep her mind off of her anxiety.

It was all together too soon before Zelda found herself standing in front of the large wooden double-doors leading to the chamber.

Two guards stood stiffly on either side of the doorway, royal halberds in hand as they acknowledged her presence with the merest darting of eyes. Link stood patiently in wait behind her as she stared down the doors, mustering her courage. This was it—time to be the leader she was born and raised to be. Taking a deep, calming breath, she placed her hands on the wood and pushed.

The council room was a massive, circular chamber with a domed ceiling and large round table occupying its center. Floor-to-ceiling windows broke up the wall on the far side of the room, bathing it in bright afternoon sunlight. A topographical map was set within the center of the table, divided by region, and seventeen plush wooden chairs were tucked around the circumference. They were divided into four uneven clusters: Four chairs for representatives of the nobility, seven for the representatives of each Hylian-controlled territory, four for the representatives of each of the other races, and two for the royal family decorated in red and gold—one for the reigning monarch, and the other for the Sheikah representative and council leader. The largest and most ornate velvet-cushioned chair ordinarily belonged to her father; but today, it was to be hers.

The council members were gathered in several small groups throughout the room, heads bent in discussion. Polite chatter echoed off the walls as she entered, scanning the room nervously for Impa. She recognized several faces: Muava, the elderly Gerudo representative and friend of Urbosa’s; Councilor Rhoda Kasper, a willowy but strong-spirited middle-aged woman whom Zelda had known as a child; Penn of the house of Sylvan, one of the more unpleasant nobleman. After another sweep of the room she finally spotted the Sheikah in conversation with the Central Hyrule regional councilor, a sprightly middle-aged man named Winton, near the far window.

Her approaching footsteps caught Impa’s attention before she reached the pair, and she raised her head greeting Zelda with a smile.

“Ah, Princess. Welcome!”

Zelda smiled in response, back straight, head held high, hands folded delicately over the journal she held before her. Despite her nerves she was determined to live up to her title.

“Thank you. If all councilors are present, shall we proceed?” she responded politely.

Impa nodded, then stepped away from her companion to stand behind her chair at the table, Zelda following to stand behind her own. The chatter began to die down as several other councilors became aware of the Princess’ presence. She could feel all eyes in the room boring into her; some held awe, others sized her up. She felt her palms begin to sweat. She clutched the journal tighter.

Impa spoke loudly, voice echoing off the chamber walls and drawing the attention of all present.

“Will everyone please take your seats? We are ready to begin.”

Zelda walked around the royal chair, tucking her skirts under her as she sat upon the cushioned velvet and placed her journal on the polished wood table, opening it to the first page. Link moved to stand several paces behind her seat, arms clasped before him and legs shoulder-width apart. The Master Sword gleamed on his back, occasionally drawing eyes from around the room.

It was a surreal experience taking the head seat—`the seat she remembered her father occupying when, as a young girl, she sat upon his lap during council meetings. Usually she was permitted only during holiday or festival planing meetings. The Necluda Harvest Festival had always been her favorite. She would sit with him, arms resting on the table top as she occasionally voiced suggestions. One year she had suggested theming the celebration around pumpkins, a suggestion heartily supported by the councilor for Necluda who owned several acres of pumpkin fields. And now, here she was, taking not only his seat, but his role as ruler of Hyrule. It as as though he really were dead. Beneath the table, her hands clenched tightly as she struggled to push away the painful thought.

It was several minutes before the rest of the council members were seated and Impa began. Standing up from her seat, she let her eyes roam those seated around the table with solemnity before speaking.

“Thank you all for making it to today’s emergency council meeting. As many of you have already learned, some by personal experience and others by virtue of your travels here, Hyrule has suffered greatly as a result of the Calamity. Even here in this council, we have suffered. Though they fought bravely, Champions of the Rito and Zora, Revali and Mipha, were lost to us. I would like to start this meeting by taking a moment of silence to honor the dead.”

A heavy silence followed her words as all those at the table bowed their head. As Zelda lowered hers, her eyes lingered on the seats of the Rito and Zora delegates, their expressions just a bit more mournful than the rest. She felt a knot form in her throat, and took the opportunity to hide her face fully as she reigned in her emotions. Squeezing her eyes tight, she forcefully shoved the feelings into the furthest recesses of her heart. She could deal with it later. Right now, she needed to focus. She had more pressing matter to deal with than her own broken heart—like the broken lives of thousands of her subjects.

After several moments, Impa’s voice interrupted the silence. “May their souls rest in peace.” A chorus of voices echoed her statement.

Impa nodded her head before returning to her seat. “Thank you all.”

Zelda took a deep breath, feeling somewhat more in control as she slowly raised her head.

“I would like to cut straight to the most pressing issue. You have all doubtless heard the rumors flying, and some of you have seen for yourself. However, I would like to set the record straight for any who have received misinformation. Please remember that this information is highly privileged and not to be shared.”

“During the Calamity, the King was in the upper levels of the castle when Ganon appeared and attacked. The ceiling collapsed, killing one of his guards and causing the king serious injury, including several broken bones and a severe blow to the head. After Ganon was sealed and the wounded gathered, King Dorephan was kind enough to send us his best healers who immediately tended to the King along with our own healers and physicians. I will hand the floor to Councilor Ordon who oversaw the healers efforts, to further explain the King’s condition.”

Zelda could feel her muscles tense. She knew this was coming, but was hardly looking forward to it. The Zora representative stood from his seat as Impa sat in hers, pointed teeth prominent as he spoke. His expression was kindly despite the somber news he conveyed.

“Thank you, Impa.” He then turned to the rest of the council, hands gesticulating with his words, “The healers were able to mend the King’s physical wounds with little difficulty, and he is expected to make a full recovery from those physical injuries. However, the blow to the head has rendered him comatose.” At this news, shocked murmurs broke out around the room, but the councilor ignored them, continuing on, speaking a little louder over the low rumble of hushed whispers. “We have tried many of our most reliable methods to aid in his recovery, but healing the brain is not like healing the body—it is far more complex, and less is known of those complexities. We do not know if or when he will ever wake, but believe it is of a reasonable possibility at this point; however, it could be days, weeks, or months before he wakes, and it is unknown what condition his mind will be in if or when he does.”

The table was silent. As the moment stretched on, several councilors turned to look at her with pity, but she scarcely noticed; she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts. Hearing it all presented before the council… it suddenly felt so horribly, painfully, inescapably real.

Ordon took his seat as Impa once again rose from hers, eying the councilors with an appraising look, “I feel it is too early to make any serious considerations regarding the King until some time has passed and it becomes clear how his condition will progress; besides which, our healers and physicians still have many more remedies they wish to try.”

“The Princess is now of age, and as law dictates, in the event the reigning monarch becomes unfit to rule due to injury, illness or other temporary impairment, the next-in-line for the throne shall rule in their stead as Regent until such time as the reigning monarch regains their ability to competently rule.”

“However—given the fragile nature of the kingdom at present, I feel it wise to keep this official change in leadership from the public for the time being. Relations with our neighboring Kingdoms have been sorely neglected over the past decade, and I believe it is in our best interests not to so readily display our weakened state. As far as the people know, the king is indisposed pending recovery from modest, unspecified maladies, and the princess is stepping in to assist. Until the kingdom has achieved a modicum of stability, we need not advertise Hyrule’s condition. Are there any objections?”

A smattering of murmurs circulated the table and a few shook their heads, but none raised objection. Impa nodded, satisfied, then turned to her.

“Princess, on behalf of this council I invoke statute 10.3 of the laws of succession, requesting you take up the title and responsibilities of Regent until such time as the King is fit to rule. Do you accept this role, and pledge to fulfill its duties to the best of your ability”

Zelda could feel knots in her stomach, but kept a level head. It helped that Impa had prepared her ahead of time. Keeping her expression neutral, she nodded, “I do.”

“Thank you, Princess,” She said, then turned, addressing the council at large, “Now that our most pressing matter is dealt with, we can begin discussing damages and recovery efforts.”

Zelda momentarily tuned out the conversation which followed as her thoughts grew increasingly fretful. That was it—she was now the ruler of the Kingdom of Hyrule. She felt… well, she didn’t really feel any differently; but that familiar weight of expectation which she’d so recently shed with the defeat of Ganon settled back down heavily upon her shoulders.

Catching herself straying, she returned her attention to the meeting. It seemed she’d missed Impa opening a discussion on military matters.

“…need a new General to rally the remaining soldiers and knights, and begin rebuilding the military. I would like to open the floor to discussion.” Impa finalized, then sat down.

A salt-and-pepper haired man of late middle-age with a large barrel chest cleared his throat imperiously, his bushy grey mustache rustling as he spoke with haughty superiority. He was one of the more old-fashioned noblemen, of the group of Nobles Zelda personally felt were better left to the annals of history: Coren Lynnhurst, head of the house of Lynnhurst.

“I would like to nominate my son, Freder, as the new General of the Hyrulean military. He is a born leader with extensive combat training and powerful connections across Hyrule—he will bring our military to its former glory, and perhaps even beyond.”  
His bold declaration was met with silence before the raspy voice of the Northern Hyrule councilor, Alana Wilder, spoke up in support. "That is not a bad suggestion."   
A snort of derision echoed through the quiet chamber from Winton Brolly, who eyed Coren mockingly.  
“Freder hasn’t spent a day undergoing the rigors of military life, and he couldn’t hope to hold his own in battlefield combat—or do you think his ‘noble blood’ is going to ward off an enemy’s death blow?”

Coren’s mustache twitched in agitation as he fired back a response, brows drawn in contempt, “Freder has years of weapons training and has more than proved himself in one-on-one combat. He is a born leader, and his connections with nobility here in Hyrule and in bordering Kingdoms—”

Another voice, this one a woman’s, cut off his retort with similar dismissal, “Winton is right, Coren, and you know it. Freder is under-qualified; this isn’t the first time we have had this discussion.” The speaker was Rhoda Kasper, representative of the Akkala region. She’d been on the council a long time, and, Zelda knew, was well-loved by her constituents. “We’ve lost over half the military, and almost all of our commanding officers. We need someone with extensive combat experience on and off the battlefield, with an understanding of military needs and military life, who is also a competent leader. It is a tall order, and Freder is not up to the task.”

Though familiar with Rhoda and acquainted with Winton, there were many on the council she was not overly-familiar with—such as Coren, and some she’d never met before today. As conversation unfolded, she took a moment to jot down notes into her notebook.

“Coren Lynnhurst - representative of the House of Lynnhurst: Old-fashioned and close-minded; pompous and arrogant. Intent on advancing family power through his position on the council.”

“Winton Brolly - representative for Central Hyrule: boisterous and bold, a man of the people. At odds with Coren Lynnhurst; a potential ally in opposition to the old-guard nobles.”

She returned her attention to the table to see Coren looking ready to have a fit. However, Winton spoke before Coren had the chance, grinning as he directed his gaze over Zelda’s shoulder.

“Councilor Kasper is right, it is a tall order to find someone who possesses all of those traits, and it will not be just anyone who can accomplish this monumental task,” He glanced around the table ensuring he had the entire council’s attention before continuing, “But the answer is literally staring us all in the face at this very moment. I nominate Master Link,” he then gestured behind her, “as General of the Hyrulean military. We all know his history. If he can defeat Calamity Ganon, I’m sure he can build one hell of an army.”

Murmurs broke out across the table as many of the councilors turned their heads to look at Link standing behind her. She herself felt a great deal of surprise. Turning slightly in her chair, Zelda stole a glance over her shoulder. He stood, face impassive and gaze fixed on a distant point ahead of him, seemingly unfazed by the turn in conversation.

Link as General of the Hyrulean military! He would be the youngest General in recorded history if the council were to appoint him. It was certainly a tremendous opportunity… she would be happy to see him receive such an honor, and she couldn’t think of anyone better suited to the job. But if he were General, he could no longer be her appointed knight… She felt a surprising amount of dejection at the thought.

Ember Payli, a young, tanned, dark haired man—regional councilor of the Faron territory in southern Hyrule if she remembered correctly from her briefing with Impa that morning—spoke above the chatter, drawing the attention of the other councilors.

“While I agree with Councilor Brolly that Master Link would be exceptionally well-suited to the role, in consideration of the current state of the line of succession, I believe the Princess’ safety should take priority; Link’s duty should remain as her appointed knight. He has demonstrated himself to be the most capable of any in the kingdom of ensuring her protection.”

Winton settled into his seat, hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully. A short, balding man—Koda Danaphor, councilor for Necluda—leaned forward in his seat, raspy voice echoing in the chamber.

“I agree with Councilor Payli. Though unfortunate, Master Link is currently best suited to continue his role as the Princess’ personal guard.”

Zelda felt a wave of relief at the councilor’s words. She didn’t want to rob Link of such an opportunity by voicing her own opposition—besides, it would make her appear selfish and self-serving, something she hardly wanted to convey during her first council meeting.

She turned briefly from the conversation to add to her notes.

“Ember Payli - regional councilor for the Faron Region: level headed and rational. Too early to tell where his loyalties and biases lie.”

Winton spoke up, leaning forwards in his chair as he looked to Zelda.

“Your Highness, what are your thoughts on the matter?”

Zelda started, lifting her head from her notebook. She hadn’t anticipated anyone asking her opinion on thematter. She had been prepared merely to listen, to get to know the quirks and biases of each member and the structure and flow of discussion. Schooling her expression as she quickly ordered her thoughts, she spoke slowly, choosing her words with care.

“While I agree that Link would be a valuable asset to the military leadership, I must see the wisdom in Councilor Payli’s words.”

Winton nodded in response with grudging acceptance, but followed up with another, unexpected question.

“Who, then, do you feel might be a good substitute?”

Zelda didn’t know what to say to this. She had no idea who might be a good substitute. They were all right—Link possessed every quality of an effective general, despite his young age. He had grown up in a military family—his father and grandfather had been knights before him. He’d been a prodigy, training since the young age of 3 and accepted into the military at the age of 10. He had years of experience in both weapons training, combat, and leadership. He was the chosen of the Goddesses for Nayru’s sake! He was vastly qualified, so… really, who would know better than him whether someone was a good candidate? That gave her an idea.

“I do not know, Councilor Brolly. However, as many have already stated, Link’s experience and skill give him particular insight into the needs of the military. Therefore, I feel it may be wise to ask his opinion.”

Zelda felt nervous to be making such authoritative statements so soon into her first meeting, but she held the Councilor’s gaze. Out of the corner of her eye, Zelda could have sworn she saw Impa smirking.

Winton seemed surprised by her response. Clearly, it hadn’t occurred to him to ask. In many situations others had had similar reactions—Link was a fixture more than he was an actual person in their eyes, particularly while guarding her; he generally remained silent and still. She waited several moments for Winton to recover himself, and after a time he turned in his seat to face Link, directing the question to him.

“Master Link, what are your thoughts on the matter? Who would you recommend as General of the Hyrulean Military?”

Zelda turned in her seat as delicately as she could, looking over her shoulder as Link shifted, looking uncomfortable. He glanced at her briefly, question in his eyes; she smiled and offered a subtle nod in encouragement. He cleared his throat before continuing, turning towards the rest of the Council with a neutral expression.

“I would recommend Lady Urbosa. She is fierce, dedicated, and experienced. I have every confidence in her ability to meet the demands and responsibilities of the position.”

Silence greeted his statement as all eyes stared at Link. It had likely been the most any of them had ever heard him speak. After several moments, Councilor Brolly, who had been eying her knight with studious attention, smiled.

“I like it.”

It seemed to take time for the council to process Link and Winton’s words, as several more moments of silence passed before a cacophony of outrage erupted around the chamber.

“Preposterous!”

“She’s a Gerudo! The general of the Hyrulian military should and ought to be Hylian—”

“I am unable to believe a woman could make the tough decision a General would be faced with…”

“Absolutely not! Her loyalties lie with her people, not the people of Hyrule—”

“We should at least consider—”

“We cannot have one of the weaker sex in such a position of power…!”

“I dare you to say that to your wife, Hagie. Absolute nonsense!”

“She’s a GERUDO!”

Criticism and libel continued to echo around the chamber as several of the councilors stood before their seats in scandalized outrage—both for and against. Zelda was floored. The conversation had been civil until that point. Was there truly still such bigotry in the Kingdom—in the ruling body? As she looked to Muava, the elderly Gerudo representative, her heart sank; she was completely unfazed, as though she’d expected it the moment her chieftain’s name left Link’s lips. This was… this was appalling, offensive; unacceptable.

The shouting was still going when Zelda pulled herself from her shock.

“Very good, Penn, why don’t you start calling Councilor Ordon a Bass while you’re at it…”

“Please, everyone, calm yourselves…”

“A Gerudo!—”

“I’ll call Councilor Ordon whatever I please!”

“She fought the Goddess-damned Calamity! How can you so readily dismiss—”

“You suggest to pass up an experienced warrior and man of noble birth for a desert rat?!”

It was that comment which set Zelda’s blood boiling. Desert rat? DESERT RAT?! Urbosa had risked her life to save not just her people, but the whole of Hyrule. She had faced trials the likes of which none in this room would ever understand. She was fierce, passionate, strong and brave—could he not see that? Could he not see that of all the Gerudo people? After all she had done for the people sitting in this room… How dare he? How DARE he?!

Zelda could hear blood rushing in her ears as the insults continued.

“Absolutely not!”

“Listen to reason!”

“My son—”

“A damned Gerudo, for Din’s sake!”

Without another thought she stood from her seat, leaning forward heavily on the table in barely suppressed rage.

“That is ENOUGH!”

Her voice echoed around the room, far more loudly than it naturally ever should. Around the table, several drinking glasses set before the councilors’ seats cracked, emitting a shrill tinkling sound as spider-webbing fissures spread across the glass; however, in her fury it surpassed her notice. She glared angrily around the table, lingering on every face she’d seen utter such slander. Her tone was icy as she spoke, slowly and deliberately.

“I will not tolerate the behavior I have just witnessed in this chamber. If I hear another word of racism, sexism, or bigotry uttered by any individual in this room, I will have you escorted out for the remainder of this and any future meeting where you dare to demonstrate such vile behavior.”

She wasn’t sure whether she actually had the authority to carry out her threat, but she was just so angry; besides, she doubted anyone would argue and Link would surely back her. Who would dare defy the ‘Heroes of Hyrule’ on such a matter? Leaving her gaze to linger on the worst of the perpetrators, Councilor Lynnhurst, she spoke her final words with clear and ringing authority. “Am I clear?”

Silence filled the chamber like the stifling, oppressive heat of a Gerudo Desert summer. Zelda could feel the slight shaking in her shoulders more keenly as her rage slowly began to subside in the quiet. It was several moments before anyone spoke. Politely, a petite round-faced brunette—Mayli Safula, councilor for the Ridgeland territory—answered the question Zelda hadn’t been entirely sure wasn’t rhetorical.

“Yes, your Highness.”

Taken aback by her polite deference, the last of her rage quickly dissipated. Gathering her wits and attempting to hide the shock and embarrassment which was starting to creep up on her, she primly lowered herself back into her seat, attempting to keep her expression neutral. Clearing her throat, she nodded to the table at large.

“Then please proceed.”

Doreck Koleson, a burly young man representing Tabantha, continued the discussion cautiously, speaking slowly and choosing his words with care. “Though I don’t doubt Master Link’s assessment of Lady Urbosa’s skill and ability, as a Gerudo she is not under the direct control of the crown. More than that, as the Gerudo Chieftain she is forbidden from holding another position of leadership within the Kingdom. It would violate the dominion and sedition act.”

Zelda tried to pay attention but her thoughts were intent on drifting. She was still reeling from her outburst, shocked both at the behavior of the council and the strength of her response. She had spent the majority of the past ten years of her training far away from castle life, and particularly the affairs of the royal council. Though ordinarily she would have begun to attend council meetings upon her tenth birthday, shadowing her father to observe and learn the finer points of this aspect of rule, the threat of the Calamity and her inability to unlock her power had taken precedent over royal training. As a result the Royal Council—with all its bigotries, biases, and hidden agendas—was a foreign entity to her. She had never suspected… but then again, she never had reason to. Their… old fashioned views—no, the racism, entitlement, and superiority of some of its members, call it what it was—complicated… everything.

At this realization, she suddenly longed for a return to the pointless prayers and day-long devotionals of her training. At least there she knew what she was doing, even if it hadn’t worked; there she knew all the cards at play. Here, she was a stranger playing a strange and foreign game—one she couldn’t afford to lose.

Impa spoke next, succinctly addressing the Councilor’s concerns. With effort, Zelda forced her attention back to the table.

“While both of those statements are true, Councilor Koleson, both can be rectified. If Lady Urbosa were to abdicate and swear an oath of loyalty to the crown, she would be legally free to accept the appointment. Should she be willing, of course.”

Silence filled the room for several moments before Winton chimed in, “If Master Link recommends Lady Urbosa… then I am willing to offer the nomination.”

“But Freder—!”

“Oh, give it a rest Coren!” Winton cried in exasperation, throwing his hands in the air as he eyed the nobleman with frustration, “In Lady Urbosa we have a skilled, seasoned warrior who has more than proved herself in combat, who fought the Calamity, and who has the endorsement of the Goddess’ chosen Hero. Freder doesn’t compare no matter how you slice it, and a better choice isn’t going to come along!”

Murmurs of agreement momentarily filled the room before Winton cut through the chatter, “I nominate Lady Urbosa as General of the Hyrulean military.”

Rhoda followed up his nomination not moments after, speaking over the swell of voices, “I second the nomination.”

Coren remained silent, but glared angrily at Link from across the table. Impa’s business-like voice refocused the room. “All in favor?”

Raised hands filled the chamber; the majority of the council was in agreement.

“All opposed?”

Six stood in opposition, four from the seats of the nobles. No surprise there.

“The aye’s have it.” Impa then turned to Zelda, “Your Highness, do you approve this nomination?”

Inwardly, Zelda grinned. Yes, she most certainly did. The Princess spoke calmly, attempting to mask her satisfaction behind a cool facade.

“I do.”

Coren’s mustache twitched angrily as he leaned back in his chair, his hands tightly gripping the armrests while Winton eyed him sidelong with a smirk. Impa then turned to the rest of the council.

“Excellent. Lady Urbosa happens to be visiting the castle, so a herald will be sent with a formal summons later today. With luck the military will have official leadership within the week. Moving on…”

The rest of the hours-long council meeting passed in a blur. The damage assessment was next, and it proved a grim affair. Castle Town has been all but destroyed and half the population was dead. Food stores were running low and refugees were struggling to survive, camping all over Hyrule Field and seeking refuge in nearby cities and villages. Zelda took copious notes, filling several pages on the topic alone.

After an hour-long discussion, one which was surprisingly more civil and productive than the one dealing with military affairs had been—perhaps her outburst had truly been heeded—a plan for a refugee camp had been mapped out for Hyrule Field, to house those displaced by the destruction of Castle Town as the city was rebuilt. It was to be headed by Councilor Brolly who represented the region and took to the task with enthusiasm and pride. Zelda was already coming to like him.

The hour after that was occupied by plans for reconstructing the Castle and Castle Town. It hadn’t taken long to agree on a contractor to lead the project—a man named Bolson, best in all of Hyrule or so went the consensus. Yunobo, the Goron representative, had also agreed to arrange for a team of Goron to work with Bolson to speed along the heavy lifting. They would be ready to begin only a week thence, much to Zelda’s satisfaction.

However, the highlight of the meeting came unexpectedly as reconstruction plans moved into a discussion of financing.

“I do have news on this subject,” Impa said as she interrupted the beginnings of a tense debate, “King Rhoam set aside a portion of funds every year since learning of the Calamity to aid in whatever ills the country were to suffer—some of our more senior councilors may already be aware of this. After reviewing the treasury ledger this morning, I can, with a good deal of relief and gratitude, assure you all that it will be more than enough to cover the expenses of recovery efforts without tapping in to the regular budget. In fact, if we play our cards well, we may have a budget surplus this year.” This announcement was met with cheers and table-thumps.

However, the good mood was short-lived as the council moved to the last, decidedly unpleasant topic to cover before adjourning.

Impa stood, soberly surveying the faces seated around the table. “For our final order of business, I would like now to turn our attention toward the loss of life this kingdom has suffered. Initial estimates suggest 900 civilians and 1,600 soldiers perished. Funerary arrangements must be made, however it has not been since the war with Labrynna over 100 years ago that so many have died in so short a period of time. How to go about laying them all to rest is the question. A military-style mass-funeral may be appropriate for our soldiers, however do we commit the civilians in the same manner? I open the topic to discussion.”

For several moments, no one spoke, many eyes turned downward in sorrowful contemplation. Then, Winton’s booming voice filled the chamber. His eyes were watery despite his level tone. “I feel a military-style funeral would be too impersonal. I know the people of Castle Town—they are good, honest, hard-working people who love this Kingdom. Those that have passed deserve better, and those that survive will not be satisfied with something so generic.”

Penn, head of the house of Sylvan, who had so far only spoken in opposition to Urbosa’s nomination, countered.

“Yes, but every rupee we spend on things other than reconstruction is a rupee we could otherwise use elsewhere. With all due respect, these people are now dead. If a military-style funeral is sufficient honor for the sacrifices of our soldiers, it is sufficient honor for our civilians.”

As soon as the subject had been brought up, of its own accord Zelda’s mind began to fall back into memories of the fallen city. The voices of the slain guards outside the Castle Town gate echoed in her mind.

“Goddesses, please, watch over Maren and the children …”

“I’m not ready to die… please, I’m not ready—”

“I lived so little, I always wanted to travel… oh, please, give me another chance…”

“I loved you, Sari. I never told you—I wish I had…”

Zelda’s heart rate quickened, fingers trembling as her mind, her being, was cast back to that dark, rainy field, bloody bodies strewn like so much discarded waste. It had been slaughter: horrifying and senseless. With effort she stilled her hands.

The brief, trivial recognition of a military-style mass-funeral would never be enough—for soldier or civilian.

Zelda spoke quietly but firmly, interrupting an argument between Councilors Sylvan and Payli.

“Councilor Brolly is right: A military-style mass-funeral is insufficient.”

Their bickering ceased at the sound of her quiet voice, and all eyes in the chamber turned to her curiously.

“These were not the wartime deaths of trained soldiers who were aware of the risks they were taking—this was the brutal murder of untrained, innocent civilians.” As she glanced at the many unaffected expressions around the table, her heart plummeted. They didn’t understand. Councilor Brolly seemed to—the pain in his eyes spoke of recognition, of understanding and empathy. She needed the rest of the councilors to see… They needed to honor the people’s sacrifice as such a sacrifice deserved to be honored; SHE needed to. Perhaps if they had been there as she had been, perhaps if she… maybe…

She took a breath, preparing herself to relive the memory. Her words were quiet, far more quiet than she would have liked, but she kept her voice steady.

“As I approached Castle Town with Link, I heard them—the voices of the fallen: their final thoughts, their hopes, their fears, their unfulfilled dreams.” Every face in the room transformed at her words, now gazing at her with wide-eyes. The council was silent, stunned by her unexpected revelation.

“One things was true for every single person, soldier and civilian alike: they died in fear, and regret, and pain.”

Not a soul moved as, for the second time that afternoon silence engulfed the chamber, its presence thick and stifling. She spoke with slow deliberation, in part to choose her words carefully, and in part to keep herself from becoming sucked beneath the tide of painful memories.

“It was not mere lives that were lost—hearts were shattered, families torn apart, survivors forever traumatized. These people deserve to have their Kingdom recognize the depth of this tragedy.” As she absorbed her own words, she came to a sudden realization: they may not understand, and her words may or may not sway them; but she did. She knew with painful clarity just what was lost, just who was lost—and what that loss had done to the people who survived them. She knew what she had to do.

“I would therefore like to volunteer myself to orchestrate the funeral for the deceased.”

As she looked around at the faces of the councilors, many looked to her with bewilderment, as though unsure what to make of her. Winton, however, was an open book, and his expression held no small amount of emotion. His eyes were watery and he squinted with the effort not to cry. He stood and slowly bowed to her, his voice rough as he spoke.

“Thank you, your Highness. The people of Castle Town will not forget this.” Shaky hands gripped the armrests of his chair as he retook his seat. Zelda smiled to him, grateful that at least one person in the council understood. No others spoke.

Impa’s unusually soft voice cut through the quiet which followed his words.

“Thank you, Princess. It will mean all the more coming from you.” Clearing her throat, her eyes swept across the table, “That concludes the business of this emergency council meeting. I motion to end the session.”

Rhoda responded, “I second the motion.”

“Motion carried. This meeting of the Royal Council is dismissed.”

At Impa’s words Zelda felt the stress of the session settle into place on her shoulders, as though it had been hovering over her like the sword of Damocles, just waiting until the end to place its weight upon her. One by one, councilors rose from their seats and stretched, heading for the chamber door. As she slowly stood from the seat of her comatose father, watching the council file out of the chamber with calm, casual strides as though they hadn’t just been discussing how to bury 2,500 people, surreality settled over her like a warm blanket, stifling and muting the world around her. The sorrow and grief which had been thrumming within her like a pulse throughout the session—a wound ripped open and freshly bleeding—suddenly felt as a strange and distant sensation. Looking out the windows to distract herself, she noticed the position of the sun. Golden light flooded the chamber as the sun lowered itself towards the peaks of the Hebra mountains; they had been at it all afternoon.

As the chamber emptied, Zelda piled her belongings into a neat stack. Gathering the materials in her arms, she surveyed the now nearly-empty room, eying the plush velvet chairs and the cracked water glasses… cracked water glasses? Sweeping her gaze across the table, she suddenly noticed that every glass before every seat now had long, white fissures spider-webbing across their surfaces. That was… strange. An uncomfortable feeling lodged itself in her gut as she squinted at them in confusion. She didn’t remember any of the glasses being that way when she had entered. Turning her gaze to her own glass, she noticed no such damages upon its surface. What in the world…?

Before she could ponder the matter further, Impa called for her attention by the door, shuffling sheafs of papers in her arms.

“Princess, if you don’t mind, I have some documents ready for you to sign. I need to retrieve the royal seal, but after may I meet you in your chambers?”

Turning her attention to the woman, her thoughts were pulled from the perplexing matter of the water glasses. Suppressing a sigh, she turned and headed towards the door.

“Yes, that should be fine.”

Impa smiled. “I will see you shortly, then.”

She passed through the large double doors, turning left as Impa turned right, the mystery of the water glasses momentarily forgotten. With a weary stride she made for her chamber in the east wing, Link following silently behind her.

-:-:-:-

“Hyrule is so beautiful at sunset. Don’t you think?”

Silently Link nodded beside her, eyes fixed on the vista before them. After the council meeting she had felt weighed down by her thoughts in a way she hadn’t in a long time. Once she had finished business with Impa and found herself with a rare evening alone, she’d jumped on the opportunity to get some distance from the responsibilities and stresses haunting her in the east wing. Staying within the castle grounds, you didn’t get much farther away than the top of the Sanctuary’s bell tower; so, not but a few minutes after Impa departed her chamber, she’d headed for the Sanctuary and made the long, arduous climb to the top.

With weary strides she walked towards the tall, arched window, gazing northward at the Lost Wood. The Great Deku Tree rose high above the forest, its pink blossoms glowing in the golden light of the setting sun. She sighed. After all the documents pertaining to the council meeting had been signed and dated and certified with the royal seal, she found her thoughts lingering on the meeting, and returning to the matter of the cracked water glasses. At first, she rationalized it away as just some new style of glassware; but then she’d remembered her own undamaged one. That explanation simply didn’t fit.

Though part of her mind felt it was a stretch to make such an assumption, another part of her mind felt certain in its conclusion: the glasses had been damaged by her. After her meeting with healer Ravio, she had suspected her sudden ability to perform healing magic and the recent unlocking of her sealing power could not be merely coincidental. If she truly had possessed healing magic all along, it wouldn’t make sense that now, out of the blue, it would manifest. Ravio himself said that the gift almost always made itself known in early childhood. So, logically, it made sense that her newfound healing magic and her recently unlocked sealing power would be connected. Under that assumption, though, she couldn’t help but wonder: if there was more to her sealing power than simply the ability to seal Ganon away—if an aspect of that power was the ability to perform healing magic—was there possibly even more to it than that? Though she understood little about magic on the whole—she was a woman of science, after all—healer Ravio had emphasized the link between magic, or at least healing magic, and emotion. And there had been only one moment during the meeting which stood out in her mind as a moment of particularly heightened emotion. Could her anger over the treatment of Urbosa have caused the glasses to crack? 

What did that mean if it was true? What all was she capable of? She felt so lost without her mother—anyone—to guide her.

She turned away from the window, a soft sigh escaping her. How many people had noticed? Had anyone made the connection she had made? And, most pressing of all… should she tell anyone about her theory?

She turned her head to glance at Link over her shoulder. He was gazing out over the lost woods, his eyes thoughtful yet faraway. Perhaps… perhaps she could test the waters, gauge his reaction. If anyone would have noticed, it would have been him. Catching his eye, she looked to him intently as she queried, softly. “Was I too harsh with the council, today? Was such a rebuke overmuch? I don’t want them to fear me, and I reacted so much out of anger…”

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Link felt his breath catch as her soft, green eyes caught his blues. Light from the setting sun illuminated her long, golden hair, reminding him distinctly of her glowing form not long ago in Hyrule Field. Her rosy lips were pursed in thought, her eyes a little anxious—though she held herself with grace, despite the heaviness which weighed almost visibly upon her shoulders.

‘She is so beautiful…’

The thought entered his mind unbidden, and as soon as he registered it he started, eyes unconsciously widening. Where had that come from? Sure, he knew her to be lovely—everyone commented on the Princess’ beauty. But the feeling which had stirred in him as the thought floated lazily through his mind… Inwardly he shook his head. He was being silly. He was just observing and noting a well-known fact, nothing more.

Link forced his straying attention to her question. She continued to gaze at him in anticipation, awaiting his response. He assumed she was referring to the discussion over Urbosa, as she’d remained relatively silent throughout the rest of the meeting. Thinking back, he considered the situation carefully. He was no man of statecraft, and so was reticent to give his opinion. Yet, as a citizen of Hyrule with vested interests in the Kingdom’s affairs, he felt her actions were more than appropriate. Though he’d been careful to mask his own emotions, the council’s behavior towards Urbosa had infuriated him. It didn’t help that it came as a result of his opinion. He was well aware of the lingering racism towards the Gerudo, especially in the upper classes; he had no stomach for it. If the Kingdom was ever to move past such things, efforts needed to start at the top. But politics was a tricky minefield to navigate. How much of his opinion was really appropriate to share?

“Politics is not… my strength.” He began carefully. When he did not continue, the Princess urged him on.

“I value your opinion as well as your swordsmanship, Link, even in the area of politics. I would very much like to know your thoughts.”

Link observed her for several moments before continuing slowly. “I do not feel you were too harsh. If you wish to see such bigotry fade, then Hyrule’s leaders must demonstrate principals of inclusivity and diversity. Divisiveness cannot be allowed to fester.”

Zelda cocked her head at him as a small smile alighted upon her lips. Link shifted, feeling awkward under her scrutinizing gaze. Perhaps he should have kept his mouth shut.

“I’m not so sure I believe your claim of weakness in the area of statecraft.”

Despite himself, Link smiled, warmed by her complement. A breeze blew through the open windows, ruffling Zelda’s hair and prompting her to tuck the strands back behind her ears. She continued to gaze at him, her brow beginning to furrow as she hesitated, as though deeply contemplating her next words. Link gave her an encouraging nod.

“I… was also wondering… if you noticed the water glasses?”

Link stilled. He had noticed. She hadn’t reacted to it and no one on the council seemed to have noticed, so he figured maybe no one else had seen… He responded slowly, carefully, feeling as though he were treading unfamiliar territory.

“…yes.”

She eyed him a moment longer, looking fretful.

“Do you think anyone else noticed?”

He paused to consider how best to respond. “I’m not sure… I don’t think so. If anyone did, I don’t think they connected it to you.”

She suddenly stiffened, staring at him with wide, surprised eyes. “How… why would you… what makes you say that?”

He felt suddenly confused. It had been her… right? She was the only person in that room he knew of to have any extra-ordinary abilities that might cause such a thing to occur. Did she not want anyone to know? “I assumed it was you… It happened the moment you stood from your seat.” He cocked his head, eying her with confusion. “Did you not…?” He wasn’t sure how to finish his question, but the Princess didn’t give him time to contemplate it. Immediately she began pacing, fidgeting with her hands nervously.

“I… I don’t know for certain, but I think it was me. I always assumed that once I unlocked my sealing power, the ability to banish Ganon was it—nothing more. But then yesterday I healed Urbosa and today I cracked all the water glasses during the meeting and now I find myself wondering how much more there is to this power, and what if I hurt someone?” she suddenly stopped, turning to him and staring with a worried gaze, “I don’t know how to control it—I don’t really know anything about this power. Sealing Ganon was sort of… instinctual, and I—”

Link interrupted her, his mind lagging behind as he tried to process the sudden onslaught of information. “Wait, wait, you… you healed Urbosa?”

Zelda eyed him warily and slowly nodded. “Yesterday, when she came to see me. I don’t know how, it just… happened.”

Link continued to eye her, brow furrowed as he considered the situation. “And… now, after what happened in the council meeting, you’re worried you might hurt someone?”

She nodded again, resuming her pacing. “What else could I be capable of? What if I accidentally, I don’t know, cause a loose stone to fall on someone in the castle when I’m angry? Or start levitating furniture in my sleep? What if I—”

He laughed. Though he tried to keep it in, he didn’t want her to feel belittled, he couldn’t help it. Her concerns, though somewhat understandable, were a little… ridiculous. Zelda stopped mid-sentence and stared at him with consternation an just a hint of hurt.

“Link, this is serious!”

Smiling, Link moved forward to grab her hand in his, lifting it. At their touch, a faint triforce symbol glowed on the back of each of their joined hands as he spoke. “Princess, your powers were bestowed upon you by the Goddess for the purpose of keeping Hyrule and its people safe. I don’t think you have to worry about hurting people or levitating furniture or whatever other catastrophes you’re imagining. Whatever your power is capable of, it is surely only for good.”

Zelda stilled, gazing deeply into his eyes as though searching for some deception. The intensity of her gaze caused goosebumps to rise on his skin, a feeling he tried to ignore with only limited success. After several moments more she seemed content with his sincerity and her shoulders relaxed, a smile rising to her lips.

“I… thank you, Link. I needed to hear that.”

He smiled in return. “Of course, Princess.”

He lowered her hand slowly to rest between them, but couldn’t seem to find it in himself to let go just yet. She held his gaze, eying him contemplatively before taking a step closer. She spoke softly, almost hesitantly, her rosy lips still lifted in a small smile. “Please, call me by my name. If anyone has earned that right, it is you.”

Link felt warmth creep up his neck and he hesitated. She’d asked this of him many times before, but he’d always refrained—it went against protocol. Though technically he already had, several times in fact, the circumstances had been… different. She’d been shell-shocked by Ganon’s return, and he’d been trying to focus her on the task at hand. He’d thought that doing something out of character would draw her attention away from her panic, and the ploy had worked. At least, that’s why he’d done it at first. Though he’d tried to ignore the truth of it, he’d continued to use her name that day for a very different reason, one he wasn’t sure he wanted to consider too deeply.

“I, um…”

She continued to hold his gaze, though her smile faltered just a little at his hesitation. When she spoke again her voice was somehow even softer.

“Please.”

Under her imploring gaze, Link felt his last bit of allegiance to formality give way, and nodded slowly in defeat. He spoke hesitantly, quietly, gazing almost nervously into her eyes as he tested it out once more.

“Alright—Zelda…”

Though he would never dare admit it to himself, her name tasted like honey on his tongue—sweet and achingly familiar, a pleasure he’d been deprived of for too long. Her eyes softened as they held his, her radiant smile growing and highlighting the faint blush decorating her cheeks. Tension began to fill the air between them as their gaze remained locked, thick and heady but not unwelcome. The small room in which they stood seemed to melt away, leaving only her before him. Without thinking, he took a step closer. Her eyes tracked his, widening ever so slightly as he neared, pools of viridian sparkling in the setting sun…

CLANG…

Link jumped and the Princess did likewise as the loud noise echoed in the chamber. From their left the tower bell swung, heading back towards them on its axis.

CLANG…

Link brought his hands to his ears as the bell sounded painfully against his eardrums.

CLANG…

Slowly coming to a standstill, the bell stopped after its third ring, signaling the approach of sundown and the beginning of curfew. The jarring interruption had been successful in breaking whatever spell had come over him, and he hurriedly took a step back, straightening his shoulders. Speaking before she could get anything out, he nervously gestured towards the circular hole in the floor beneath the bell where a ladder protruded.

“It’s getting late. We should head back down while there’s still light.”

She looked faintly disappointed, but nodded anyway.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

He let her down first following soon after, struggling all the way to the ground floor to reign in his suddenly wild emotions. If he were honest he was grateful for the bell’s interruption. He wasn’t sure what had just happened. Though he knew they were free of critical eyes at the top of the tower—free to interact more openly with one another as she’d put it, this time it wasn’t others he was worried about, it was himself. He’d felt… bewitched, out of control—like he truly hadn’t know what he may or may not do. Even just thinking back to her standing by the window, figure illuminated by the setting sun and eyes sparkling, her hand warm in his, sent a strange exhilaration coursing through him.

There were so, so, so many other things to be thinking or worrying about; people to mourn, tasks to accomplish, newfound magical abilities to contemplate. And here he was getting caught up in things he had no business getting caught up in… Yet try as he might he couldn’t stop thinking of her sunlit figure, of her smile… her wide, beautiful green eyes…

No! No, no, no! He shook his head viciously. Goddesses, what was wrong with him?

But deep, deep down, in a part of his heart his conscious mind was unaware of, he knew what was happening to him… he just wasn’t ready to face it, yet.


	10. Fallout

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 10: Fallout**

Zelda walked down the stone corridor towards the door at the end of the hall. It had taken some doing to convince Impa and Ravio that she was ready, but she couldn’t wait any longer. The reasoning she’d given had been sound and tactfully presented; They had vocalized plenty of objections and concerns for her mental and emotional wellbeing, and had she not been so focused on getting them to agree she may have found it rather touching. And so it was that, after a half hour of patient yet firm insistence, the pair had reluctantly given their blessing.

As soon as she had been well enough to leave her bed, even before the council meeting she’d wanted to go to him, but she knew it would reflect poorly in the eyes of the council if she were to ignore the professional recommendation of her physicians to put her desires first. So she’d waited as patiently as she could. Now that recovery efforts had been put into motion and she had more ample opportunity, her patience had all but evaporated. It felt to her as though some final part of the Calamity had yet to unfold, like it wasn’t truly over until she saw him again. The feeling ate at her in the days since her officially sanctioned recovery. She had to see him, and it could no longer wait.

Link hadn’t said a word against it when she’d voiced her desire to visit her father. He’d asked her if she was sure—she’d said resolutely and with a hint of stubbornness that yes, she was—and that was that. She’d been surprised by his easy acquiescence, though admittedly she didn’t know what she’d been expecting; and truth be told she wasn’t sure whether he genuinely supported her in this or whether he just didn’t want to go against her on such a sensitive issue. She hoped it was the former.

In some corner in the back of her mind she marveled at how she’d come to rely on his opinion so greatly. Had he privately spoken out against her wishes, well, she may not have conceded to him but she certainly would have given his thoughts more consideration than she had Impa’s. She had always been sensitive to how he saw her; before, it had been out of fear of his judgment of her, as she saw it, failures. Now… she knew she no longer feared any such harshness. They were finally within the realm of a comfortable friendship and Zelda was immensely pleased by that fact, especially with how long it had taken to get there. However, the lingering feeling of wanting to impress him somehow remained. She wasn’t sure why—she had unlocked her powers and, in many ways, proved herself; but there was still a deep-seated urge for him to… something. Respect her? Admire her? She wasn’t entirely sure.

In any case, she did dearly hope he supported her in this.

Her father, like herself, had been tended to in the east wing of the castle. She had been placed in a room on the north side, and her father a room on the south side. It was a small matter of walking down the busy hall to see him, but it felt like traversing the length of the castle. As the tall wooden door of his chamber loomed before her she could feel her heart begin to beat rapidly in her chest. How would it feel seeing him lying there? Would it ease her pain to know he truly was still alive, or bring her despair to see him so still and lifeless? She wasn’t second-guessing her decision, but she was beginning to contemplate just how difficult it may be.

As she approached, the guard in front of the door nodded, stepping to the side without a word. Setting her hands on the door handle, she glanced anxiously over her shoulder to Link. Nodding for her to enter he moved next to the door as well, facing away as he spoke in a low voice and offering her a brief, reassuring look.

“I’ll wait here, Princess.”

She offered a grateful smile, thankful for his consideration. Giving him one last lingering look—he was, as always, resolute in his duty as he moved into position—she pushed on the handle and crossed the threshold into the room, turning to shut the door softly behind her.

It was much like her own room: simple by some standards, yet fully furnished and stately. Sunlight streamed through the three small glass-paned windows opposite the bed, leaving slats of warm sunlight on the ornamental rug in the center of the room.

“Your Highness!”

A startled, portly, middle-aged nurse stood before one of the arm chairs in the corner, gazing at Zelda in surprise. She quickly curtsied.

“I didn’t know to expect you. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Zelda pulled on the best smile she could manage, forcing her weary posture into a more regal one as she nodded her head in greeting, hands folded before her.

“I apologize, my visit was unscheduled. I only ask—might I have a moment alone?”

The nurse folded her hands, nodding demurely, “Of course, your Highness. Please take all the time you need—I’ll wait outside.” She then curtsied once more before heading for the door. 

Zelda gestured appreciatively with a murmured “Thank you,” as the nurse walked quickly yet quietly past, shutting the door silently behind her. Then, Zelda was alone.

The curtains on this side of the four poster bed were mostly drawn, barring her father from view. Zelda approached slowly, her footsteps echoing off the high stone walls and her heart beat increasing with each step she took. Standing before the bed, she could see a rise in the sheets through the gap in the curtains. There he was, just beyond the veil. Lifting a trembling hand she drew it back, revealing her father tucked into the bed, blankets drawn to his chest and arms resting atop them at his waist.

He had been changed into a clean, simple tunic, his royal robes folded neatly on the bedside sporting rips and dark, dirty stains. His head was bare absent his crown, and gray hair lay spread across the pillow. His chest rose and fell in time with his breathing, steady and rhythmic. Had she not known better, it would look as though he were simply asleep.

Zelda gently settled herself on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at her father before her. He didn’t look comatose, yet within her mind lay the stinging knowledge that if she were to try and rouse him he would be utterly unresponsive. A strange, distant sense of panic mingled with despair rose within her at the thought.

Leaning forward slowly, she extended a hand, fingertips grazing his cheek as her vision blurred with tears. She had done his to him. If only she had heeded his words, had worked harder, tried harder, maybe—maybe he wouldn’t be here; maybe Revali and Mipha would still be alive. The damage to the castle and Castle Town she could easily enough dismiss. Buildings and roads could be rebuilt, but the lives that had been lost… Sitting and staring at the very real consequences of her failures created a guilt she could not rationalize or will away. Pulling her trembling hand back to rest it atop his own, she finally dared to speak.

“Father…” She tried to keep her voice steady but she could feel the cracks forming.

“Father, I am so sorry. I… even though I managed to unlock my powers, it was still too late to save you. I’m—” her words halted as a knot formed in her throat. Taking a moment to swallow it back, she paused before shakily continuing.

“The council has made me Regent.”

She tried to smile as she said it, as though to make him feel more at ease with the news she bore. Silly…

“Regent, to rule in your stead until you are well.”

Her smile quickly gave way, voice faint as she spoke the words she’d been unwilling to voice to anyone but Link. “But… I don’t feel ready to rule.”

Momentarily she pulled her hand back as the tears which had been building in her eyes fell down her cheeks. Delicately wiping her face dry, she took a steadying breath, returning her gaze to his still form.

“I need you, Papa. I have prayed to the Goddesses every day for your health, but my pleas go unanswered… just as they did before.”

She squeezed his hand, a tremble passing through her limbs, “I’ve already lost Mother. I can’t lose you too.”

She gazed desperately at his still face for several moments. Despite her confession, he remained as unmoving and unresponsive as he had when she’d first approached his bedside. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting; perhaps a hope-beyond-hope that the Goddesses might answer her prayers or that the presence of her powers, though she knew not their extent or how to wield them, would somehow stir him. Taking a breath and clearing her throat, she forced a tight smile as she gave his hand one last squeeze, attempting a lighter tone.

“So you have to get better, Father. You have a lot of people counting on that, myself especially.”

Leaning down upon the bed, careful not to disturb his slumbering form, she laid a gentle kiss upon his forehead before slowly rising to her feet. Giving his still face one last pained glance, she pulled the curtains of the bed closed as she turned and walked away, struggling against the urge rising within her to run back and snuggle into his arms as she used to when she was a child, fearful of the dark. Stopping before the door to the hallway with her hand upon the handle she took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing and still her trembling hands. No need to give Impa any reason to believe she’d been right. She he had wanted to do this, she had done this, and she was fine. She would be fine. Pulling her shoulders back, she pressed down on the handles and pushed the door open.

Link and the nurse stood in the hallway, Link to one side of the door with the guard on the other and the nurse standing opposite her knight, stealing unsubtle curious glances. As she stepped into the hall, both turned to her. Zelda offered the nurse a tight smile as she gestured into the room.

“Thank you. You may resume you duties.”

The maid straightened herself and curtsied.

“Yes, your highness.” She then walked quietly into the room, shutting the door behind her. Link didn’t say a word, but eyed her with a subtly appraising look. Zelda ignored it, even though she could feel it boring into her back as she turned from him to face back down the hall. She was fine. She was… fine.

She spoke in her best calm, collected voice, despite feeling anything but. “Shall we?”

She walked forward, not waiting for a response. After a moment, Link followed silently behind.

-:-:-:-

Zelda had come to the frustrating conclusion that her desk was not nearly big enough, and this realization was worsened by the fact that it possessed only one drawer. Papers lay spread across its surface in an overlapping mess as she shuffled the pile to find the document she was in need of. In her free hand she clung desperately to another document, trying her best not to get distracted and set it on the pile she was currently sifting through and lose it as well. Travel plans for the formal visit to the Zora and Rito? No. Work orders for the gravediggers guild? No… Aha! There it was, finally, and with all three pages pinned neatly together.

Turning to the wiry gentleman standing in the center of the room she walked stiffly forward, trying her best to mask it though there was little she could about the slight creaking of her knees. Too much sitting.

“Here is the list of deceased guardsmen, as we discussed,” she said, stifling the yawn which threatened to escape her, “And here is the engraving design.” She then handed over the documents, gesturing to the ink sketching upon the surface of the larger paper, “Detailed instructions have been written on the back for your master’s reference. If you have any questions please do not hesitate to send word.”

The man eyed the documents with thoroughness before stacking them.

“Of course, your Highness, I will see that it is done to your exact specifications. Thank you for allowing master Cargill and myself to be part of such an important project.”

Zelda offered a wan smile. She was glad to have been able to secure the Master Stonemason’s help—he was an extremely busy Zora who came highly recommended by King Dorephan for his success with the Zora stone monuments which were recently placed throughout the Domain; but as she approached her thirty-fifth hour without sleep, she was quickly losing the energy and patience for pleasantries.

“Of course. If you have no further questions…?”

The man shook his head, tucking the papers under his arm.

“No, your Highness. You have been very thorough.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wenton. You are dismissed.”

He bowed low before turning sharply on his heel and heading through the door.

It had only been three days since the council meeting, since she started work on the funeral, and already she was worn. She had initially begun her planning with eagerness and vigor. She’d felt a sense of purpose in it, and had felt as though she could truly begin to honor and atone for the deaths the Calamity—her failure—had caused. The first day she’d spent mostly in her room, contemplating how to best go about acknowledging each loss individually while balancing the reality of just how many people had died, and how long she really had to plan and execute a funeral.

She’d made a quick trip to the Royal Library, which she’d been grateful to discover sustained relatively little damage aside from a section of collapsed roofing. The books had all been in good shape, and that was what mattered. She dug around for tomes on old wars and the funerals that had followed, and on monuments erected in remembrance of great losses throughout Hyrule’s history. She researched traditional Hylian funeral ceremonies and the different ways in which each race and the different Hylian and human cultures scattered throughout Hyrule approached and resolved death. Finally, after several hours of scouring the library’s halls, a plan had taken root in her mind. She’d returned to her chamber to jot out her ideas, and had gone to bed feeling satisfied with the day’s work.

And then she’d awoken in the early morning, sweating and shaking from a dream she couldn’t remember. She’d tried to return to sleep but further rest eluded her, much to her frustration. That had marked the start of her troubles.

As she began her day, began working through the logistics of her precisely laid-out plan, she’d started to realize just how hard the project would really be, and the toll it would exact on her time and energy. She’d first gone to Knight-Commander Pipit, the highest ranking military official left until Urbosa’s official induction in a few days’ time, to compile a list of the deceased soldiers for the monument she wanted to erect outside the castle town gates; Once she had it in hand, she found she couldn’t stop herself from reading each of the 1,623 names, feeling a sinking, festering pit in her gut as each one was seared painfully into her mind.

Then she’d gone to see Winton, who had taken up residence in the castle to oversee the construction of the refugee camp south of the Sacred Grounds in Hyrule field. Together the two had compiled a list of the civilian deceased, and throughout the course of their work he had only barely held himself back from openly crying. As she left the meeting, she found herself once again reading each of the 903 names listed with laser-like intensity, feeling a little more bitterness and self-loathing with each one.

Upon returning to her room after her morning meetings to find lunch waiting for her on her bedside table, she found that as the usually appetizing scents of Chef Yeto’s signature soup reached her nose, her appetite had completely disappeared, along with her good mood of the day prior. So she’d thrown herself into the minutiae of it all and the distraction had, so far, been working. Her responsibilities and the demands of the Kingdom did not cease just because she didn’t feel all that great.

As the door clicked shut behind the stone mason’s Hylian apprentice, Zelda let out a breath. That was one part finalized, but she was still anxiously waiting on the arrival of a Miss Teryn to coordinate the flower arrangements and the garden she hoped to have planted in time for the ceremony. Her letter predicted her arrival around mid-day, but it was nearly lunchtime and there had been no sign of her.

Zelda paced the length of her room in agitation, contemplating what to work on in the meantime; no point in allowing down time, especially when the project was so time-sensitive. There was still the civilian monument to work on, her speech, security arrangements, the buffet menu to arrange with Chefs Pimm and Yeto… She still had the special rite for the Champions to finalize, though Rola wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow so that was likely best saved for then. The speech it was.

Turning in her pacing, she made for her desk, shuffling the pile of papers once more in search of the hastily scrawled first draft. Finding it, she lowered herself back into the plush wooden chair and grabbed her pen, setting to work.

It was barely a half hour later when a knock sounded at the door. Feeling her train of thought dissipate, she answered tersely, fingers tightly clenching her pen without turning.

“Yes?”

“Lunch is ready, yer highness,” came Meredith’s timid voice through the door. Zelda’s hand came to a halt and she sighed. It really wasn’t fair to be so short, Meredith had been nothing but kind; but she’d just managed to get her thoughts to flow…

With effort, Zelda removed the bite from her tone but couldn’t find it in her to do more than that. “Come in.”

The door swung open, Link holding it for the maid as she carried in a silver tray. His eyes lingered on the Princess momentarily before shutting the door behind her.

Zelda forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes as the maid entered before turning back to her desk. “You may set it on the bedside table.”

“Would you like me ‘t take away yer breakfast, yer Highness?”

Oh, her breakfast… She’d been so preoccupied with her preparations she’d completely forgotten about it, and had forgotten that she’d forgotten about it. Not that she thought she could eat anything anyway. She answered absently and without turning.

“Oh, yes.”

Attempting to focus on the words swimming before her, she struggled to pick up the thread of thought she’d lost upon Meredith’s entrance. Her speech needed to be perfect, and perfect it currently was not. As she sat hunched over her desk digging little crescents into her palm with her clenched fingers as she struggled to translate her emotions into words, she didn’t notice Link eying the uneaten meal as he held the door open for Meredith to exit, looking to Zelda with a frown as he slowly closed it behind her.

-:-:-:-

Knock Knock Knock.

Tiredly Zelda rose from her desk chair, briefly shutting her eyes to momentarily ease the itchy dryness that had overtaken them. The day had progressed achingly slowly, and she found herself more taxed than she’d anticipated. But she had one last meeting for the day before she could simply fall into the minutiae of her work for the night and enjoy the solitude of her room. Opening her eyes once more, she pulled on what little energy reserves she had and called out smoothly, “Come in.”

The door opened and a striking young man with silvery hair entered, his arm held against his chest in a tight sling. Shutting the door, he gazed at her intently for a moment, a small smile on his face, before bowing low. His voice was warm yet filled with an emotion she could not name, and was too tired to attempt to decipher.

“Princess,” He acknowledged, “You asked to see me?”

For the first time that day, Zelda smiled. “Faris, it is good to see you.” She walked towards the young man, who gazed at her with soft eyes. “Impa told me of the injuries you sustained during the Calamity. How do you fare?”

“Better and better each day.”

“That’s wonderful to hear.”

His smile broadened. “Thank you. And how do you fare, your Highness? You seem to be in good health.”

She hesitated only a moment, the truth of her current state at odds with the polite answer she knew she should give; however, she kept her mask of polite interest firmly in place. “I am, thank you.” Before he could continue with further small talk, she diverted the conversation straight to the reason for his summons. “Though I wish we had an opportunity to catch up, I unfortunately have much demanding my attention this evening. I wanted to make a request of you. I assume you have heard of the upcoming funeral?”

He nodded once more, eying her curiously.

“I know traditional Hylian funerals are typically somber, serious affairs, but my plans are actually quite the opposite. I wish to foster an environment of celebration and community rather than sorrow and formality. To that end I have arranged for a celebratory feast after the ceremony. If you feel your arm will be healed enough by then and are amenable to the task, I would very much like for you to perform during the feast.”

Faris’ eyes widened in surprise. She had been expecting as much. As the court poet, his performances were usually limited to smaller affairs in the castle—birthdays for members of the royal family, solstice celebrations, entertaining visiting dignitaries… This would certainly be a change of pace for him. However, he didn’t falter in his response, gazing at her with just a hint of pride in his dark eyes.

“I would be honored. Healer Selga believes I should be well enough to remove my split within a few days time. Is there anything in particular you would like me to play?”

Zelda shook her head. “No, I only ask that you avoid pieces which focus on death or loss. Warm and lighthearted songs would be best.”

The poet nodded. However, as she opened her mouth to dismiss him he quickly interrupted.

“Princess, I… while I was here, I was… hoping to ask you a favor.”

Though she was happy to see him, and happy to have this business finalized, she was tired, and eager to have the room to herself for the night. However, she nodded politely. He was a friend after all, she could spare a moment for his request.

“I know your time is limited right now, but I was hoping I could get a moment for a brief interview. I’m writing a new piece about the vanquishing of the Calamity, and there are some rather… outlandish rumors circulating. I wanted to know from the source what happened that day.” He paused, eying her carefully. Seeing her smile falter, he added quickly, “For posterity’s sake.”

Zelda stilled. Revisiting that day was… not something she really wanted to do. Sharing what she had in the council meeting had been hard enough. Besides, she wasn’t quite sure what she really wanted to—or should—share. Impa was really the only one who’d gotten the full story, down to every last gritty detail. Between her and Link, over the course of her recovery they’d managed to cover all that had happened from her failure at the Spring of Wisdom to her arrival at the castle after their defeat of Ganon. She didn’t think she could bear to relive it all again even on a good day—and today was decidedly not a good day.

More than that, she had a political image to be conscious of now. She didn’t want to fuel any hero worship or incite fear against her or Link. And goddesses only knew what the rumors he spoke of were about—no need to fan the flames there, either. True, she trusted Faris—he was a Sheikah, after all, loyal to the Royal Family and their wellbeing. He had also proved himself a friend over the years, both in his capacity as the court poet and during their lengthy survey of the shrines all over Hyrule; but she was exhausted, and her stress was mounting, and though she didn’t want to be rude she simply didn’t want to deal with this right now.

Yet as she gazed at Faris, eying her with hope and nervousness and just a touch of excitement, she felt her resistance waning. She simply didn’t have the energy to deny him and deal with his inevitable disappointment and polite needling. He hadn’t been made court poet at the young age of 19 for a lack of determination.

She settled on a middle road. Withholding a sigh, she gestured towards the twin arm chairs in the corner and made for one herself. “I have much more work still to do, but I can spare a few minutes now. Will that suffice?”

Faris’ eyes lit up, and he nodded demurely, though his excitement still shone through. “Absolutely, your Highness.” Following after her, he settled into the seat across from her. The chair beneath her felt entirely too comfortable to her sleep-deprived body, however she determinedly ignored it, doing her best to stay focused on the matter at hand.

Pulling out a small notebook and pen from a breast pocket, he leaned forward onto the arm rest and eyed her attentively.

“So, first things first. How exactly did you unlock your power? I know you had been returning from the spring of Wisdom when the Calamity broke out—were you successful?”

Zelda felt tension seep into her shoulders as she remembered the overwhelming feeling of devastation which had plagued her on her journey down the mountain to the Eastern gate. Already she was doubting her choice to entertain his request. Attempting to keep the bitterness from her voice, she said softly, “No, I was not. It was sometime later that I unlocked my power, shortly after Ganon appeared over the castle.”

He hummed, turning his attention briefly to his journal as he jotted down notes. “If you don’t mind my asking, how were you able to unlock your power? What occurred to bring it about?”

“I…” she faltered, too many emotions rising as she cast her mind back. Swallowing heavily, she pushed them down and tried to focus. “Even now I’m not entirely sure. When Ganon turned the guardians against us, Link and I had been fighting through the monsters before the castle town gate, trying to reach the castle. He—”

Faris interrupted, eyes wide. “Wait—wait… you were both fighting monsters?”

For a moment, pride overtook the sorrow and pain she was feeling, and a small smile rose to her lips. “Yes… we were both fighting monsters.” She continued on, ignoring his stunned expression. “When the guardians turned, Link tried to lead me to safety, but we were ambushed in the woods.” Faris had shaken himself from his shock and had returned himself to his notes. Yet as she recalled the events within the trees, trying to think how she wanted to convey what had happened, her heart began to ache in her chest. She shut her eyes as the overwhelming mental image of Link’s limp body against the tree trunk rose to her mind, as well as the sickening crack of his head against the wood. “He was… he was ready to lay down his life to give me a chance at escape. But… I wasn’t fast enough, and he got thrown against a tree by one of the rogue guardians and fell unconscious. And I—I just…” she shifted her hand in her lap, rotating her wrist so that the back of her hand was visible. No mark adorned it now, her skin pale and unblemished. But she remembered—remembered that moment vividly.

Shaking her head of the thoughts, she attempted to hide her discomfort, refocusing on maintain the polite mask on her face which had begun to slip. “I stepped in front of him, to protect him, and it was just… there—the power to seal Ganon away. I defeated the guardian, and when Link awoke we made our way back to the castle. I’m sure you’ve heard the rest.”

As she finished her tale, Faris’ exuberant interest faded and his expression became guarded. Though strange, Zelda didn’t have the energy to contemplate it. He’d gotten his tale. He nodded before looking down to add more notes to his journal.

He asked only a few more questions, mostly about what it was like to actually fight Ganon, and how she felt stepping in to fill in for her father (he, as well as many others within the castle were unaware of the King’s true condition). She answered as best she could, finding herself resorting to briefer, more generalized answers as her psychological stress mounted. After several minutes more he finally closed his notebook, tucking it back into his pocket. Thanking her politely for her time, he headed for the door, exiting silently.

But Zelda payed him relatively little attention as he departed. With each question she’d been forced almost bodily back to that day; and with each answer she felt the fear and horror and despair creeping back, taking up residence into her heart. No matter if Ganon had been defeated, if he no longer posed any threat—she couldn’t get her mind off of Link’s bruised and battered form—off the desperate ache at the thought he might not survive; off the bodies strewn before the Castle Town gate; off her own certainty of failure.

As Faris shut the door behind her, she looked down to see her hands trembling in her lap. Frowning, Zelda flexed the muscles in her arms to still them.

The sun was just starting to near the horizon, indicating it long overdue for her to return to work. But perhaps that was a blessing—it might take her mind off things. Rising from her arm chair, she returned to her desk, glancing tiredly through the documents which covered its surface as she decided what to resume working on first.

-:-:-:-

Darkness had long since fallen, and Zelda’s limbs felt simultaneously like lead and jelly. She was slumped in her chair, reviewing the security plan for the funeral provided by the council earlier that evening. A dull ache resonated from her stomach, her limbs were tense and achy, and there was a pounding behind her eyes; yet anxious energy coursed through her still, despite all her discomforts.

Food seemed appealing in concept, but every time she turned towards the platter with her latest meal, the sight and smell repulsed her. When she tried to force herself to eat something, it felt bitter and tasteless—almost ashen—in her mouth; and the more she forced into her stomach the more she felt nausea overtake her, threatening to regurgitate whatever had managed to make it down. Thus she’d finally given up entirely, committing to ignore food as a component of her day if only so she didn’t have to waste energy on trying. Besides, her first deadline was approaching with the rise of the sun, and she was going to be damn sure she saw every aspect of her first major project as Regent through to a timely completion.

However, she was now also nearing two days without sleep and it was showing. She was getting sloppy, clumsy; she’d gone through two copies of the civilian monument design already, spilling water on one and smearing ink all over the other. Eying her bed, she was beginning to think a little sleep, even if only a brief nap, might be the solution to her quickly declining quality of work.

Giving the security plan one last cursory glance, she set it down atop the pile of papers on her desk and blew out the candle. Without bothering to change she walked to the bed, stumbling in the moonlight before reaching the bedside and pulling back the sheets. Slipping under the covers, her heavy eyelids slid shut the moment her head touched the pillow, and she quickly succumbed to sleep.

It was dark, and she was alone. A thick fog floated atop the dewy, grassy earth and faint light from a crescent moon filtered through a canopy of leaves and branches above her. Tree trunks loomed in the dark. She was dressed in naught but her prayer dress and the chill breeze sent shivers up her arms.

Foreboding filled her, and as she struggled to gain her bearings a faint voice called out from within the trees.

“Zelda…”

She whipped her head around, trying to determine where the sound had from. It sounded so familiar… Another called after it, just as faint and ghostly.

“Princess…”

Then another, spoken in softer tones.

“Princess…”

As sudden as the voices came, so too did a faintly glowing figure appear in the distance, illuminating the trees. The fog pooling at its feet glowed ethereally in the light the figure gave off, a faint blue. It turned and began to walk away, continuing to call her name.

“Zelda…”

“Wait!” she yelled as the figure gained distance. Spurred by a desire not to be left alone in the unsettling silence and darkness of the woods, and by a strange instinct that she should not lose sight of it, she ran after the mysterious figure. Cold air whipped at her face and arms as she darted almost blindly between the dark trees, fog kicking up as she disturbed the air with her pace. However, the nearer she got, the farther the figure seemed to be. Panic gripped her at the prospect of losing the figure altogether and being left alone in the terrifyingly empty woods. She increased her pace, tired legs aching with the effort, but soon the figure could no longer be seen. She stopped, winded, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. She was alone, all alone… Her heart thumped painfully against her ribcage and the trees around her seemed to shift and close in on her, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was her imagination.

Suddenly a blue light caught the edges of her vision. Turning towards the source, desperate to find someone to lead her to safety, she saw…

“Father!” she gasped; but he didn’t look right. His skin was pale, his eyes milky, and he glowed a faint blue. Had he been the figure she was chasing? He didn’t answer her, simply turned and drifted slowly away. Determined not to lose him this time, she followed after.

He traversed only a short distance, his movement mysteriously leaving the fog undisturbed, unlike her own. When he finally stopped they were in a small clearing, a circle of Sycamores surrounding them. He turned to her, but his figure was fading away. Her heart pounded in sudden dread. No! As she ran forward, arms extended desperately, he uttered two faint words before fading into nothingness.

“…your fault…”

Her hands grasped at air where he had been standing only moments ago. She could feel hot tears begin to well in her eyes as she looked around, trying to figure out what to do. As she made to move forward, her feet hit something obscured beneath the fog. Turning her gaze downward, she squinted trying to see in the dim light. Slowly the fog parted to give her a clearer view, and she felt a scream tear from her throat as she stumbled backward in shock. It was her father, his body pale and broken, clothing ripped and stained with blood. Jagged, bloodless cuts adorned his face, and he was still—deathly still. Her heart was pounding, blood rushing in her ears. She felt faint. No! He couldn’t be…

Before she could properly process what lay before her, the fog filling the clearing began to dissipate, throwing into horrifying relief all that it had hidden.

Bodies. Hundreds upon hundreds of bodies lay strewn across the ground; men, women, soldiers, even children. Some were bloodied, others were missing limbs, but all of them were pale and still, wide eyes reflecting the pale moonlight; but that wasn’t the worst of it. There, just ahead of her father, lay the broken and bloodied corpses of Mipha and Revali. Both were pale, unmoving, eyes glassy as they stared into nothing. A jagged cut tore through Revali’s leather jerkin, sinking deep into his flesh, feathers sticking out at odd angles and covered in blood. Mipha’s neck lay at an unnatural angle, mouth agape in a silent scream. Zelda felt her throat constrict as her breathing came raggedly, her body shaking uncontrollably and her heart palpitating within her chest. Her father’s words echoed in her head, ‘…your fault…’

A sudden rustling sound followed by a low growl drew her attention into the woods beyond. There, looming out of the darkness, were two mismatched yellow eyes set above a sinister, crooked grin… Panic seized her, and her mind screamed at her legs to move but she was immobile. Looking down, gray, withered, corpse-like hands rose from the ground holding her ankles in place, their skin cold and slimy against hers. Lifting her legs with all her might, she found herself unable to budge from where she stood. Heart pounding in her chest, she returned her gaze to the woods, frozen as she gazed in horror at the creature she knew to be Calamity Ganon, bringer of all the death that surrounded her. Slowly, painfully slowly, it approached. Unbridled fear clutched at her heart as panic set in. Where was Link? Glancing frantically around the clearing, she saw no sign of him. Where was he?! He was supposed to protect her! As Ganon left the shadows of the woods, his monstrous body slowly becoming visible in the weak moonlight, she felt her throat burn as she did the only thing she could do: scream.

Zelda sat straight up, sweat beading on her neck and face, mixing with the tears which streaked down her cheeks. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest and she wasn’t sure where she was. Urgently she looked around her, searching for the yellow eyes which had only moments ago been advancing upon her; but her mind couldn’t register anything but darkness. Feeling herself begin to hyperventilate, she forced her eyes shut, trying to calm herself. With her eyes closed, she could feel her other senses more acutely: under her hands she felt soft cotton, and beneath her she felt the pillowy softness of her bed. Opening her eyes once more, she took in the dim, moonlit chamber which was her bedroom and everything came rushing back.

Quickly she swung her feet over the side of the bed, standing on wobbly legs as she hobbled back towards her desk and the candle sitting upon it, desperate for light. After two failed attempts she was able to get her shaky hands to successfully strike a match and she lit the wick, her pile of papers coming into stark relief with the security plan laying atop the rest. Sitting in her chair, she took a deep, steadying breath. Once she got her breathing under control, she leaned forward for her pen. Anything to keep her mind from where it had just been was welcome.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Link was uneasy. Though he hadn’t gotten the chance to see her beyond a passing glance, she was far too busy, he knew something was wrong. He had watched Meredith return almost untouched trays of food from her room almost every meal for the past three days. Every time he caught a glimpse of her at her desk, her eyes were hollow, her shoulders stooped. This… apathy, this wasn’t her. Even when she had received news of Revali and Mipha’s deaths, of the King’s coma, she had reacted emotionally. She was a passionate person, even if her crown dictated she reign in such behavior.

And when she wasn’t apathetic, she was snappy and angry—something that, while not completely out of character—he hadn’t forgotten the few times she had yelled at him early on in his appointment—was also not a good sign.

The hall was silent save for the soft hiss and snap of lit braziers lining the corridor. It was a pleasant change from the daylight hours, when the hall was bustling with activity. He found lately he was in need of time alone with his thoughts.

What should he do? It was clear the Princess was suffering, even if she put on a brave face and denied anything was wrong. He could take a pretty good guess at what was bothering her, though he couldn’t know for sure. Friends did this sort of thing, right? But… how did he help?

The quiet of the hall was suddenly interrupted by the faint sound of hushed giggling. Curiously glancing left and right out of the corners of his eye, Link spotted them: two young maids peering around the corner at the far end of the hall. One of them he recognized, a young short-haired brunette whom he’d seen in the courtyard with Daruk a few days prior. Of course. Irritation flared within him as he pointedly ignored their unsubtle presence.

When Zelda had initially informed him of his newfound… popularity, aside from some embarrassment, he hadn’t thought much of it. Romance was hardly a priority for him at present, especially given the past year; who cared if a bunch of women he’d never come to know were fawning over him? He had more important things to be dealing with. But after two weeks of being stalked through the castle by giggling girls, it was beginning to grate on him. Had they nothing better to do? 

A faint noise interrupted his internal grousing, except this time it was not coming from down the hall. Subtly turning his ear towards the door so as not to arouse suspicion with his observers, he realized it was coming from within the Princess’ chambers. Listening more closely, he recognized faint, frenzied words.

“Fah… Father…”

Link immediately recognized the tone—it was one he’d heard often growing up, when his father would relive old battles in his dreams. She was having a nightmare. Link felt his heart twist. Damnit, he knew he should have said something!

“No… no!”

More giggling carried across the corridor and Link felt his hand tighten into a fist at his side in response. His first instinct was to turn and go to her, but the maids down the hall gave him pause. The last thing he wanted was to start rumors about secret, midnight visits. He knew what they were like: they fed on gossip, lived and breathed scandal and speculation. Not all of them, perhaps—Meredith was a good egg; but enough of them. His thoughts were punctuated by a strangled gasp from within the room, and he cringed. As he was contemplating going in anyway, despite the maids, he heard the muffled scrape of the desk chair followed by the faint sound of several strikes of a match—she must have woken up. Link let out a small breath. This couldn’t go on. Tomorrow, he would find time to talk to her. He wasn’t sure what he would say, or how he would approach her, but he needed to do something. She couldn’t live like this, and he couldn’t stand idly by and watch her suffer.


	11. First Aid

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 11: First Aid**

Knock, knock, knock.

Zelda bolted upright in her seat, eyes dry and achy as they flew open at the unexpected noise. Drool had pooled on the sleeve of her dressing gown, and her hair, which had been splayed across the numerous papers stacked atop her desk, pulled papers to the floor at her sudden movement. Swiveling towards the door, she quickly scrubbed her face—a private indulgence she would never be caught doing in public, as she attempted to gather her bearings.

She cleared her throat before speaking. “Come in!”

Impa entered the room with hasty strides, papers stacked haphazardly under her arm as she shut the door behind her.

“Good morning, Princess. Do you have a few moments? I have some documents regarding reconstruction that require your urgent signature of approval.”

Zelda nodded, absently gesturing for her to bring them to her desk. Her mind floated in the nether between wakefulness and sleep, signing where Impa pointed without really comprehending the document’s purpose. As she completed her final signature, hand cramping from the prior night’s work, Impa gathered the documents in a stack and bowed, excusing herself from the room.

Sunlight streamed in through the windows, warm and bright, indicating it long past sunrise. Zelda rose from her chair, stretching and hearing her joints crack and creak in protest. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, if one could really call that sleep. She’d been working through the night again, and had stopped to rest her dry, weary eyes for just a moment… and then Impa was knocking and the sun was up.

Her extremities felt cold and achy despite the sunlight’s warmth streaming through the windows. Walking to the bed to retrieve a throw blanket, another knock sounded. She stared blankly in exhaustion at door, feeling a twitch in her right eye; it seemed her day had already decided to begin, whether she was ready for it or not.

-:-:-:-

By noontime Zelda’s exhaustion had given way to manic frustration, and she felt ready to pull her hair out. She sat rigidly at her desk, struggling to ignore the stabbing aches of her stomach as she calculated work orders. It had been… likely too long since she’d last had a proper meal. Winton, who had just departed after a brief discussion of construction efforts on the southern Castle Town wall, even commented on her haggard appearance—in the politest manner possible, of course. She had, with effort, politely dismissed him and chalked it up merely to poor sleep, and he’d seemed satisfied in his concerns.

In the wake of his departure It seemed, much to her relief, that she would have a blessed moment of solitude to breathe between the day’s many meetings and tasks. She attempted to settle more comfortably in her chair—her back ached terribly, though only so much comfort could realistically be had sitting still half the day—intending to fill the time with less demanding activities; but the solitude was not to be, as yet another knock sounded at her door and Zelda grit her teeth at yet another interruption.

“What?!” She shouted from her seat, eyes boring angrily into the form before her.

“Lunch is ready, yer highness.”

Zelda huffed angrily, refusing to turn from her work. Could she not get a single moment?! Goddess damn it all!

“Come in,” she called tersely, hearing the door swing open and shut at her command. Meredith made her way towards her without speaking and Zelda pointedly ignored her, adding sums in her head as the maid moved to set the tray down on the table beside her. Absently reaching for a paper across the table, her arm crossed paths with Meredith’s sending the small pitcher placed on the edge of the tray to the floor, its contents spilling across the stone. Something inside Zelda snapped.

“Damnit, Meredith!” she shouted as she rose from her seat, fury evident in the set of her shoulders and the quivering of her arms and hands where they rested flat atop the desk.

Meredith shrunk from the Princess’ infuriated gaze. “I’m so sorry, yer Highness! Please, forgive me! I’ll ‘ave it all cleaned up, good as new; I’m so sorry…”

Zelda shut her eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to count backwards from ten as Meredith continued to blabber. She had gone to far. Struggling to reign in her growing urge to throw something, Zelda flippantly waved her hand, dismissing the apology.

“It’s fine, just… see that its cleaned up.”

Meredith bowed repeatedly as she made for the door. “Of course, yer Highness, I’ll be back in jus’ a momen’…”

As Meredith beat a hasty retreat Zelda ran a hand down her face tiredly, far more than simple physical weariness weighing her down. She didn’t notice Link peering through the door as the maid left, eying her with a hardened gaze and tight frown.

-:-:-:-

Zelda stared, unseeing, at the two blue scarves stacked neatly in her hands. As she had worked on them, they hadn’t felt so… weighty, so significant. It was just another sewing project, another menial task on the long list of tasks to complete for the funeral. But now, folded neatly in her hands just as they’d been the day she gifted them…

Nothing had been found within Vah Ruta and Vah Medoh—no bodies, only the Champions’ weapons. As a tribute, Zelda had made two replica Champions scarves—a task she’d finalized over the latter half of the day in an attempt to calm her unreasonable fury at Meredith—as gifts for King Dorephan and Elder Kanneli. After the funeral next week, she was to make a formal visit to offer her condolences, and these were to be presented then.

In many ways, this was all that remained of them. In many ways… this was the tangible evidence of her failures—here, in her hands. They were… Her hands began to tremble and she tensed the muscles in her arms to the point of pain to force them to still. Tearing her gaze from the blue fabric she lowered her hands and made for the dresser to tuck them in a drawer where she could ignore them until she set out for Zora’s Domain.

Her trembly journey to the dresser was interrupted by a knock on the door. The hour was late and though no one further was expected, somehow she wasn’t surprised. Why should she have a moment of peace? Ever? At any point? Zelda ground her teeth, feeling the strain on her jaw. Since no one was expected, no one would receive her audience. She was too drained to put on a polite face, and if she was honest, she really didn’t want to yell at anyone again. She’d felt rather ashamed of herself after the incident with Meredith.

“Come back in the morning,” She called brusquely at the door. She was irked to hear how strained her voice sounded in contrast to the calm collection she’d been aiming for. Shaking her head wearily, she headed back towards the dresser resting along the back wall, but the sound of a soft click caught her attention and she turned towards its source, startled.

Link stood in the room, hands resting on the door handle, much to her surprise. He had never entered without permission. Was something the matter? Was there a security breach?

“Link? Why are you… what’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

He looked uncomfortable but resolute, slowly approaching her where she stood between the desk and the dresser, stopping short halfway there, hand outstretched in placation.

“Everything is fine. I was only hoping to speak with you for a moment.”

She eyed him with confusion before his words processed and irritation flared. She stared flatly at him. Seriously? He wanted to chit-chat? NOW? Didn’t he know how busy she’d been today? He’d been right outside her door most of the time, he should have seen the near non-stop flow of people coming in and out as she worked. It was past dinner time and most of the castle had retired—this was, finally—finally—her time. He would just have to buzz off. She turned from him, reaching the dresser and tucking the scarves neatly in the top drawer as she spoke with half-heartedly disguised condescension.

“That’s very nice, Link, but I’m afraid it will have to wait till morning.”

Choosing to ignore him and continue on with her business—maybe he would get the hint, she made for the desk but was stopped by his hand on her arm, gently holding her in place.

Affronted, irritated, and exhausted, she looked to him with fire in her eyes, yanking her arm away in the process. Opening her mouth to rebuke him, he interrupted her, speaking softly but firmly.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Zelda stilled, mouth agape, surprised by his unexpected question. Then her irritation flared to life once more. Really? He was wasting her time with… what, her meal schedule?

“I don’t—what does that have to do with anything?” she spluttered.

“Answer the question.” His eyes were firm and despite her irritation she felt compelled to answer.

“I don’t… I don’t remember. What does that matter?”

His gaze swept her face and pinned her under his scrutiny as he replied, softly but seriously, “It matters because you’re falling apart.”

Zelda felt her mouth fall open in stunned indignation, feeling a flush creep up her neck. How… how dare he! She was managing just fine, thank you very much! What right did he have to question her competence?

“I beg your—”

“You haven’t eaten your past three meals, and you barely ate anything before those. I know you’ve been having nightmares and working through the night instead of sleeping. You’re snapping at Meredith—you never snap at maids; Zelda, you can’t keep on like this.”

Ignoring the discomfort that settled in her stomach at the knowledge he’d been aware of her… sleeping troubles, she drew her lips into a tight line and locked eyes with him, boring into him with her anger and frustration. She spoke lowly, warning clear in her tone.

“I appreciate your concern Link, but it is unwarranted.” She gestured firmly with her hand to the door. “Return to your post. I have work to do.”

Link eyed her sharply, meeting her fiery gaze unflinchingly.

“No.”

She faltered. Did he just disobey a direct order?

“No?” She said incredulously.

“No,” he repeated firmly, “Not until you’ve stopped to take care of yourself. You said you wanted us to be able to speak openly and honestly with each other, so I am. Eat. Get some sleep. You can pick up where you left off later.”

Anger burned in her veins. How dare he use that—her words—against her! He had no right! He had no idea—didn’t come close to understanding… Work was the only thing she had! She had responsibilities! People were counting on her! She had—she had to…

Her frustration boiled over, and before she realized what she was doing she heard her own shout echo angrily in her ears. “I am FINE, Link! Leave me be!”

He took a step towards her, raising his own voice in response as he gestured up and down her figure, frustration and concern warring on his face. “You are not fine! You’re pale as death, there are bags beneath your eyes; you look ill! Why are you doing this to yourself?!”

“Because it’s MY FAULT these people are dead!” she screamed. Blood was pounding in her ears and she felt light headed as the force of her rage exploded outward with her voice. Her head felt suddenly unbearably hot, and blackness crowded in at the edges of her vision. Opening her eyes—when had she shut them?—she looked up to find herself in Link’s arms, legs splayed awkwardly beneath her on the floor. Her limbs felt trembly and weak. Had she fallen?

Link held her tightly and spoke softly as he gazed at her with troubled eyes.

“Is that really what you think?”

She hadn’t meant to say it, and until she did she hadn’t realized it to be the truth of how she felt. Goddesses… what was she doing? She couldn’t meet Link’s eyes. Shame and embarrassment and a building urge to cry welled within her, and she couldn’t bear the pity she was sure must be prominent on his features. Link’s voice broke through her thoughts, softer this time.

“Is that why you’ve been pushing yourself so hard?”

Trying to keep the tears which threatened to fall firmly behind her eyelids, she shut her eyes, attempting to skirt the question.

“No one else on the council would have spent the time and effort to honor these people’s deaths as they deserve to be honored.” She answered quietly.

She felt Link’s fingers beneath her chin, tilting her head gently towards his.

“That wasn’t the question I asked.”

As she opened her eyes to look at him, his bright blue eyes filled not with pity but with genuine concern, she felt the tears she’d been struggling to suppress fall down her cheeks. Seeing her tears fall his expression softened, and his hand shifted to wipe away her tears with the pad of his thumb. Her eyes closed as she leaned into his touch, his warmth infusing her broken spirit.

Leaning forward without a word she embraced him, his arms moving to wrap tightly around her, holding her firmly against his chest. Finally, after days of subconsciously repressed emotion she gave in, burying her face into his neck as the tears flowed freely and silently down her cheeks. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his tunic as the force of her sobs rocked through her body, and he pulled her closer. It was several minutes before they parted, Zelda wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks as she sheepishly avoided his gaze.

His voice was kind when he finally spoke.

“Have you eaten anything today?”

Mutely, Zelda shook her head.

“I haven’t…” her voice was watery, and she cleared her throat before continuing, “I haven’t been able to eat.”

Link nodded in understanding.

“And sleep? Have nightmares been keeping you up?”

Zelda nodded. “I’d rather just stay awake most nights than…” her voice trailed off as the dark, foggy forest invaded her mind. Shaking her head to rid herself of the mental image, she distracted herself by fidgeting with her fingers.

He eyed her appraisingly, wrapping his hand gently around her forearm.

“Can you stand?”

“I—I think so.”

Grabbing her other arm, he helped her to her feet, escorting her to one of the set of twin armchairs, which she dropped heavily into.

“Stay here—I mean it. I’ll be right back.”

Giving her one last meaningful glance, he then turned quickly and headed for the door, shutting it softly behind him.

Zelda leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling with a faraway gaze. Damnit if he wasn’t right; she had been pushing herself way too hard. But what else was she to do? Every fiber of her being felt agitated and on edge—she couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Work helped distract her from that. She’d known, on some subconscious level, that at some point she would have to figure something out; she couldn’t stay awake forever or starve herself. She just… wasn’t ready to make those considerations, not when there was this much left to do; Not before she had a chance to make things right.

Her thoughts circled in an incoherent fashion for some time before she heard the door re-open. With effort she moved her head to glance across the room. She was greeted by the sight of Link shutting the door behind himself, carrying a tray laden with items: a teapot, cups and bowls, a bottle filled with purple liquid, and a large plate of food.

He walked quickly over to where she was seated, setting the tray down upon the end table between the two chairs and taking the opposite seat. Lifting the teapot he poured the steaming tea into each of the two cups, then gestured to the one closest to her.

“Start with this.”

Zelda took the cup from the tray and raised it to her lips, blowing on it before taking a sip. It was spicy and sharp and a little bit bitter, but overall it wasn’t bad.

“What is it?”

Link smiled self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck, something she’d noticed he did when nervous, “Family recipe. My great-great-grandmother was something of an herbalist, and came up with it to help my great-great grandfather cope after the Labrynnian war.”

She eyed the liquid curiously and pondered his words. The Labrynnian war was infamously grim, a dark stain upon Hyrule’s otherwise peaceful history. Records indicated hundreds of soldiers returned a shell of their former self; apparently one of them had been Link’s ancestor.

“What does it do? Or rather, what is it for?”

“Think of it as a more palatable elixir. It’s got a variety of herbs to help with symptoms of stress, some of which are for appetite loss and sleeplessness.”

Zelda felt heat rise to her cheeks. Symptoms of stress. Right. Silly, incompetent Zelda. Link’s playful expression melted as he noticed her embarrassment. He caught her gaze, looking to her seriously though his eyes were kind.

“Zelda, you don’t need to hide that you’ve been struggling. This is a difficult time for everyone, but for you especially. No one judges you, least of all me. You need to give yourself time to grieve.”

Zelda felt her blush return. Somehow he knew exactly her problem, even before she’d even fully processed it herself. He made it sounded so simple… But it didn’t feel simple, far from it. She took a long swig as she contemplated a response, avoiding his gaze.

“I appreciate you saying that, but…” She turned to him, eyes silently communicating the feelings she didn’t quite know how to explain—its so much more complicated than that, “I’m the Regent of Hyrule now. I’m supposed to lead this Kingdom, to be strong for my people; and I’m falling apart over a simple funeral.”

Turning away, she said quietly, “I’m just… I’m not… I’m not strong enough.”

Link’s expression shifted as he gazed at her for a long moment before responding, “I can’t say I understand how heavy the burden of leadership must feel. It might take some time before you get the hang of it, and you’ll probably need a little help along the way, but… you can do this.” Zelda lifted her head to look at him, skeptical, but against her better judgment a glimmer of hope formed at his words.

“I do, at least, understand what you’re feeling right now. You feel anxious and stressed to the point of nausea; the smell of food makes you want to throw up; you’re constantly tired but can’t sleep, and when you do you’re plagued by nightmares. That about right?”

Zelda nodded sheepishly, but Link only smiled knowingly in return, “You’re not alone—you’re not the only person to ever go through this.”

Downing the last of her tea she gazed into the bottom of her cup, at the dregs which had escaped the teapot’s filter, tentatively asking the question which had surfaced in her mind some time ago.

“Have you… have you ever gone through this?”

Link eyed her, his demeanor subtly shifting as he hesitated. After a moment, he nodded slowly. Turning his own cup thoughtfully in his hands, he answered in halting words.

“I… when I started my formal training with the Hyrule military—I must have been about twelve—my unit was brought out on our first field exercise to the Gerudo Highlands. We… were ambushed by the Yiga, and I—I killed one of them defending another soldier who’d been injured. It was the first person I’d ever killed, or ever seen killed. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep for days after. My father helped me to get through it, taught me how to cope—just as his father had before him.”

Zelda gazed at him raptly with renewed respect, but also more than a touch of sadness. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “Just like you’re doing for me now.”

Link’s eyes held hers knowingly, but he didn’t speak.

“I never knew—” she faltered, “This kingdom asks so much of you, and you have given it so willingly.” A beat of silence passed between them before he responded.

“The same could be said of you,” he said, taking a slow sip of tea, “Do you regret the sacrifices you’ve had to make?”

Zelda stared into her empty teacup.

“I suppose not. Sometimes I wish fate had dealt me a different hand, but I do not regret the difficult choices I’ve had to make along the path I was given.”

A rumble echoed through her body, emanating from her belly and interrupting their conversation. She looked up, startled, embarrassed but smiling.

“Link, I think… I think I’m hungry. I think I’m really, really hungry.”

Link smiled, a humor in his eyes replacing the earlier solemnity. Lifting the plate of snacks from the tray, he extended it towards her silently.

-:-:-:-

It was an hour later before Zelda had consumed the contents of the generous and varied snack plate almost entirely on her own—a true feat in the company of one such as Link. Though anxiety and guilt still gnawed at the edges of her mind, she felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from her. So long now had she gone without food she’d forgotten its nourishing and rejuvenating effects.

Link kept her company while she ate, but with the plate now empty and her food settling comfortably in her stomach, exhaustion was beginning to catch up with her. Unfortunately that only resulted in the feeling of achingly heavy limbs—her mind was still far too wound up for her to be able to sleep. Link seemed to notice her change in mood, and reached for the bottle of purple liquid.

“When you’re ready to sleep, take two spoonfuls of this. I’ll warn you ahead of time, it tastes absolutely terrible.”

Zelda eyed it suspiciously.

“What is it?”

“It’s a sleep draught. It’ll help you fall asleep and keep the nightmares at bay. Its a staple in the barracks.”

Zelda frowned upon hearing his latter comment. She wished desperately for a Hyrule where such things weren’t necessary. Nonetheless, she was grateful for it.

Link stood and began to stack their dishes. She watched his methodical movements with a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. Though she still felt tired and stressed and anxious, it finally all felt a little more manageable.

“Thanks, Link. For… everything.” Her voice was soft, but heartfelt.

His head lifted and his blue eyes caught hers, boring into her as he held her gaze, a faint smile upon his lips. The intensity with which he looked at her made her chest constrict, though not in an unpleasant way.

Link broke their locked gaze, turning back to the table to gather the last of their dishes, gripping the handles of the tray tightly as he stood. Shaking herself of the feeling Zelda rose as well, escorting him to the door. Upon reaching it, she held it open for him as he passed through into the hall, turning briefly to her as he bid her goodnight.

“Sleep well.”

She nodded as she smiled.

“I will. Goodnight, Link.”

He cocked his head and smiled in return, his gaze lingering before he sharply turned and made his way down the hall.

Zelda closed the door, feeling lighter than she had in a while as she headed for the wardrobe and changed quickly into a night dress. Comfortable and ready to try sleep out once more, she moved to the end table where the sleeping draught sat. Unstoppering the bottle, she poured out a spoonful, bringing it to her lips and swallowing quickly. It was biter with an unpleasant aftertaste that lingered far too long on her tongue. Pouring another spoonful, she downed it quickly, suppressing a cough as she popped the cork back in.

She made her way over to the bed with a new perspective. Perhaps, finally, she could once again enjoy its downy softness and smooth, soft sheets. Slipping under the covers and pulling them up to her chest, she felt her eyelids slide shut the moment she laid her head upon the pillow.

For the first time in far too long she slipped quickly into a deep, dreamless sleep, and slept the whole night through.


	12. Kitchen Gossip

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 12: Kitchen Gossip**

“I tell you, it was a lovers quarrel!”

“Did he truly raise his voice to her? To the Princess?!”

“I knew it!”

“What did you hear? What did they say?”

Meredith stilled with her hands in the soapy water of the wash basin, subtly tilting her head to better hear the conversation taking place across the room. Late-morning sunlight streamed through the far windows of the warm, stuffy kitchen, and the sounds of pots and pans clattering filled the air. Despite that, their voices carried in the large, echoing chamber.

“She was screaming at him to leave her alone, and I didn’t quite hear all of what he said in return, but I did hear him say, nice and loud, mind you, ‘Why are you doing this?!’” She altered her voice to sound more gruff, and out of the corner of her eye she could see the young woman gesturing wildly with her hands. The gaggle of girls began to giggle and squeal.

“What do you think it was about?”

“After the council meeting I just know she wouldn’t have stood for such treatment; there must be something going on if she allowed him to speak to her like that!”

“Ooooh, do you think it was a love confession gone wrong?”

The ringleader spoke over the eager voices, “I don’t know what they were arguing about, but get this: He was in her room with her—alone—for an hour…”

“Ooh! Maybe it was a love confession gone right!”

Excited squeals erupted at this news, but Meredith had had enough. Pulling her hands from the water, she dried them on her apron before turning and marching around the island to where the gaggle of young women were huddled in the corner. Pointing her finger and speaking in her best no-nonsense voice, she glared at the ringleader with reproach.

“Nell, you leave ‘er Highness be! She’s under a lot of stress, she don’t need you startin’ no rumors!”

Nell turned, tucking a stray strand of short, mouse-brown hair behind her ear before eying Meredith with excitement, as though she hadn’t just heard her reprimand.

“Meredith! You see the Princess every day, surely you must know something?”

The older woman huffed, annoyed that her words had gone in one ear and out the other. Typical Nell.

Meredith deeply admired the Princess and the Hero both, and had felt honored when the head of the kitchen staff had chosen her to serve the Princess. Seeing their privacy so flagrantly violated deeply bothered her. And though Meredith secretly agreed, the two did seem… unusually close, she wasn’t about to share that with the gossip queen of the kitchens.

“If Master Link an’ ‘er Highness were indeed fightin’, it’s their business, not yours. Whatever it was, I’m sure ‘e was proper and ‘ad ‘er best interests at heart. You let this be, you ‘ere?”

Meredith stared sternly into the over-exuberant eyes of the young gossip-monger, pleased to see her finally wither under her disapproval. With a frown Nell averted her gaze, turning and heading towards the door which lead to the back patio where wood for the stoves was stored. Waving her hand, she acknowledged the reprimand in her usual airy fashion.

“Yeah, yeah, Meredith, I got it. We’re just having fun, no need to be a spoil-sport.”

Nell led her gaggle of gossiping girls to the back door and the group stepped out into the morning light, leaving Meredith to watch them depart. Though she was glad to have been able to interject before the rumor could get out of hand, she wrung her hands in worry anyway. It wasn’t the first rumor of this sort she’d overheard. Whispers of a blossoming relationship had been circulating in some form ever since the Hero had carried her back to the castle after defeating the Calamity. Meredith had initially chalked it up to the overly-romanticized image his trek through the destroyed city had created in the minds of traumatized survivors—they were just latching on to fantasy to distract from the horror the Calamity had wrought. But now that she’d been serving the Princess for some time, she was beginning to wonder if there was, in fact, something more between them. Especially since she thought she might know what the two had been arguing about.

Meredith had returned an untouched plate of food to the kitchens from the Princess’ chambers repeatedly over the past several days. Though she’d seen little of her directly as she worked studiously at her desk, she had noticed the Princess seemed to be doing poorly. She’d started to get increasingly short with her when Meredith would interrupt to deliver meals, and though she didn’t take it personally—she knew her Highness was under an inordinate amount of stress, it was extremely out of character for the usually kind and courteous Princess. Most notably, whenever she left the room with an untouched plate, Master Link would frown ever so slightly as she slipped by him on her way back to the Kitchen. Clearly, he had been worried about her as well; that could easily have been the subject of their quarrel. He’d always shown a particular sort of thoughtfulness towards her that seemed… not inappropriate—far from it, just perhaps a bit above and beyond.

Maybe there wasn’t some secret romance, maybe it was just a deep friendship, born of the destiny they’d both been preordained to carry. Whatever the case, Meredith worried for the Princess. She’d been working so hard on the funeral, it broke her heart to think such a kind and caring person must be the subject of vicious speculation. She walked back to the sink and resumed her task, contemplating Nell and her group of gossips. She sighed, scrubbing a little harder at the soapy pot. Whatever was truly going on, she could at least do her part by keeping Nell’s overactive imagination in line.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Faris leaned his head back against the stone wall, his head spinning and heart pumping where he stood just out of sight of the maids. When he’d come down to the kitchen for an afternoon snack, the last thing he’d expected, or wanted, was to overhear more proof of the very suspicion so tormenting his soul. It must be true—he’d always thought of himself as very observant and perceptive; though he’d always doubted his own suspicions, if others had come to the same conclusion, then surely…?

Anger burned in his veins, and he turned rapidly on his heel throwing his weight behind a punch—then stopped just before his knuckles hit the stone. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm his fury before lowering his arm. Feeling some of his composure return, he quietly turned for the door, opening it and stepping quietly into the hall, eager to get space from the conversation he’d overheard.

He walked quickly back through the winding passageways to his bedroom in the lower levels of the castle—to the section dedicated to housing the royal family’s artists-in-residence. Currently he was the only one—it had been several generations since the castle was made home to a full roster of artists, and it had been King Rhoam’s wish early into his reign to see that change. Though preparations for the calamity had largely diverted his attention, the King had managed to set aside the time to approach Faris several years ago, offering the commission. He had accepted readily, settling in quickly and happily to his new chambers and his new role… and not long after that, he’d met the Princess—and his fate had been sealed.

As he neared his chamber Faris struggled to keep his fury in check and his features neutral. However, the moment he stepped through the door into the privacy of his room, his control snapped. Launching himself towards his desk he swiped his arms across the surface, sending the papers outlining the beginning of his new ballad flying across the room. When he formed a fist with his hand, this time he did not stop himself as it slammed onto the surface of the desk with a loud thump.

He bent over the desk’s surface heavily, feeling his shoulders shake and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. It wasn’t fair! He had loved her for so long… did she not realize the extra effort he put into the songs he wrote for her—about her? Did she not feel the love he’d laced into the poem he’d written about her for her 16th birthday? Had she not felt the tenderness and care he’d treated her with when they had surveyed the shrines throughout Hyrule together? They had known one another for over two years now. In all that time, had she truly never once looked his way?

Link was… he was nothing! He was just another soldier, another knight among hundreds of knights! So what if he had a special sword? He was neither nobility nor royalty… granted, neither was he, but he at least held a position of esteem within the court as a Sheikah. What did that… that stupid, brutish child have that he lacked?

He sighed heavily, his anger seeping out him along with his breath. Of course, aside from burning a hole in his heart, this complicated his latest work, too. Though it hadn’t been a formal request, many months prior King Rhoam had expressed a desire to have an epic poem written about his daughter’s defeat of the Great Calamity. Though the King was currently indisposed, he felt he should honor his request regardless, and had begun working on the piece shortly after his arm had recovered. Besides, it was a moment in Hyrule’s history that would be remembered for generations, and he wished to be the one to memorialize it.

But what was he to write about the events that had transpired? It was in no way as smooth a tale as the events of 10,000 years ago. And though he couldn’t be completely sure, between his observations and the Princess’ own words it seemed likely that her love for the hero had unlocked her power. Dare he be so bold as to claim such? Aside from possibly incurring the wrath of the royal family, could his heart bear such a proclamation?

Removing himself from the desk, he knelt tiredly to the ground and began picking up the papers he had thrown in his anger. As he gathered up the last of the documents, his eyes spotted a small creme colored envelope on the floor near the door. Standing and setting the papers atop the desk once more, he walked towards the envelope with a quirked brow, stooping to pick it up. It was a smooth, heavyweight paper, with the words “Master Faris” written in elegant black script on the back. Flipping it over, he started, fingers grazing the intricate wax seal of the Lynnhurst family.

He opened it quickly, finding a single sheet of paper inside with a brief message written in the same curving script.

“Master Faris,

Lord Freder Lynnhurst requests the pleasure of your company on the 25th of April to discuss the possible commission of a personal project. Please meet Lord Lynnhurst in the castle Library at 9pm. Due to the nature of this project your discretion is appreciated.

With sincere regards,

Donovan Greese  
Personal scribe to Lord Freder Lynnhurst”

Faris stared at the note with a furrowed brow, rereading it twice before tucking it back into the envelope and setting it on his desk. He stood still a moment, staring off into nothing. The 12th was not very far away… only a couple days after the funeral. Though it wasn’t that odd for someone to request an audience on such short notice, it was odd for one of the etiquette-obsessed nobles to do so. And more than that, very rarely did the nobles commission him for anything in the first place. He personally saw it as evidence of their own gaudy, unrefined tastes in art—but apparently one of them saw the value in his work. Well… it seemed he had an appointment to add to his calendar.

With a long-suffering sigh Faris flopped onto his bed, letting his eyes slide shut as the afternoon’s events slowly sunk in. It was just… it wasn’t fair. He could feel his heart ache dully in his chest as an image of the princess floated within his mind’s eye, beautiful and enchanting, but forever—painfully—out of reach.


	13. The Funeral, Part 1 - Link's Duty

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 13: The Funeral, Part 1 - Link’s Duty**

The day started early. Link was up before sunrise, giving himself plenty of time for a full morning warm-up. Throwing on a plain shirt and ratty pair of old trousers, he made his way down the hall to the double-doors at the end, nodding to the solitary guard on duty as he pushed them open and stepped out into the courtyard.

Thankfully a clean-up crew had been by earlier in the week to haul away the last of the rubble and debris, enabling him to extend his workout space to the full length of the east wing courtyard. He began as he always did: stretches, then push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups, ending with a brief jog down and back along the trail which wound around the castle cliffs. By the time he returned to his chamber just down the hall from Zelda’s, the sky was beginning to lighten. He took a few minutes to wash off the sheen of sweat that had accumulated on his skin in the room’s wash basin, then dressed in his freshly starched Champion’s Tunic and tan trousers—courtesy of the recently re-staffed castle laundry maids. Pausing to buff out a smudge on the chest plate of his newly forged custom armor which hung regally from a mannequin provided by Zelda—an uncomfortable necessity for the ceremony—he grabbed the Master Sword where it leaned against the bedside table and headed through the door, out into the hall, and towards Zelda’s room.

The sun was beginning to rise as Link replaced Zelda’s evening guard, a scruffy Sheikah warrior named Dorian, with a friendly nod outside her chamber. The hall was quiet in the early morning stillness, and aside from the solitary guard at end of the hall, it was empty of any passersby. He was admittedly grateful for the man; since his recent placement, he’d been free of any giggling girls peering around corners—a nuisance he’d long since become tired of. Assuming his usual stance before her door by muscle-memory, he trained an ear towards the wood as he’d done every morning since he’d learned of her… struggles; silence emanated from the room beyond. Still sleeping.

Link inwardly sighed in relief. He’d hoped that today of all days she would get the rest she needed. She seemed to be sleeping better since he’d given her the sleeping draught, and… since they’d talked. It had admittedly been one of the more uncomfortable things Link had ever done. Despite her insistence on friendship and equality, she was still his superior, and defying a superior the way he had was a behavior which had been trained out of him long ago, despite its prominence in his youth. Openly refusing a direct order and calling into question her judgment was something he had never done, and it had been nerve-wracking to do it; but she’d needed an equal and opposite force to get her to admit to and address her struggles. Though it had been extremely… uncomfortable, he knew he had to be that force. Thankfully, his efforts had not come to naught.

In the days which followed his mind had mulled over that night many times as he stood guard outside her door. He’d been left with a niggling feeling he couldn’t quite identify; but after a while, he’d come to realize what the feeling was—and it left him with a goofy, happy grin he’d tried very hard to hide while on duty. Though he shouldn’t have been surprised as she wasn’t one to engage in deception, he’d come to realize that she was really, truly genuine about her wish for them to be friends. Though she could have done many things both in the moment and after, she had not rebuked him, had not criticized him, had not punished him or pushed him away. She had instead opened up to him, accepted his help with humility, even thanked him—just as a real friend would. It gave him confidence—confidence to really be himself with her knowing that, despite their positions and differences in status, she did truly see him as an equal.

She’d proven that she’d placed her trust in him in a way she had with few others; and so he felt compelled—no, he wanted—to offer her the same. Though he’d already been making some effort, he found it suddenly easier to let his guard down more, to speak his mind more freely—and she had accepted all of it with open arms. He felt gratified by her genuine desire for and appreciation of his honest thoughts and opinions, and surprisingly relieved at not having to worry so much about titles and bowing and other formalities around her—even if it was only in private. Though he hadn’t realized it, he’d gotten far too used to being merely part of the landscape. The changes in their relationship had proven… unexpectedly comforting.

And, somehow, within this new compact of trust between them—in so short a time and despite the fact that all his efforts had been focused on helping her through her hardships—she had managed to help him through his; hardships he hadn’t even realize he was experiencing. Simply by caring she had reminded him of who he was—that he was Link, not just some duty-bound knight or a hero of legend. To her, he was important for who he was, not just what he could do for Hyrule. He’d spent so long trying to quietly bear the burden of the Master Sword that he’d forgotten he was ever anything more than just its wielder.

That realization evinced several feelings from him: humility, happiness, gratitude, but also the weight of responsibility—though it was a burden he was happy to carry. Just as he felt a sense duty as her knight and the wielder of the Master Sword, he now also felt a sense of duty to her as a friend. Perhaps the line between the two wasn’t quite as distinct as he’d always thought. After all, a happy ruler was a good and effective ruler. As a servant of Hyrule, he wanted the Kingdom to prosper; and as her friend, he wanted her to be happy. In a way, his duty as her knight and his duty as her friend each were different sides of the same coin.

Though he was only just beginning to understand—and enjoy—their newfound friendship, he knew that it would have to remain a private affair—that in public he would have to adhere strictly to royal protocol and royal etiquette, and most importantly, keep a respectful distance. A part of him was frustrated by this constraint, but a greater part of him understood, if grudgingly: they both were public figures—they always had been, even if their prominence in the public eye had only just reached these new heights in the wake of the Calamity’s defeat. They each had an image to uphold, and that image affected public trust in and scrutiny of the monarchy.

One of the many burdens of drawing the Master Sword had been that very scrutiny, and the image he suddenly had to worry about maintaining. So many had looked to him for guidance and hope—things he felt in no way capable of truly offering. So he had turned to silence and solemnity, choosing to blend into the background and allow others to impose their hopes, thoughts, and perceptions upon a blank slate. It had worked beautifully for the year and a half he’d thus far been the sword’s wielder, even if it had been a lonely path to take. Yet now…

Now he found himself resenting the loneliness that self-imposed silence had created. Through all their struggles over the past year… could they have been friends, all that time? Could they each have not been so alone?

Link’s reverie was broken by a dull thump coming from within the room, interrupting the stillness and silence of the hall. Tilting his ear towards the door, he could faintly hear her footsteps shuffling across the stone floor, then the grating of wood-on-wood as she opened and closed dresser drawers. Another thump suddenly echoed loudly from within the room, followed by a high pitched curse and a string of barely-audible angry mumbles. Link smiled, suppressing a chuckle. It seemed the Princess had awoken.

-:-:-:-

Half an hour later Link stood on the edge of the castle shrine, his back to Zelda and the finely carved statue. The shrine had managed to stay in relatively good shape, likely due to its location on one of the castle’s lower tiers.

The statue of the Goddess stood on a central stone dais situated on the far end of a circular, grassy bank. Flowers sprouted from the edges of the stone and a single tree grew to the side of the statue, providing shade to any visiting devotees. Water surrounded the bank—a small, shallow pond fed by a creek born of the castle’s waterfalls. Fleet lotus seeds and lily pads grew within the water, and the splash of the odd roaming frog occasionally broke the solemn quiet. A wooden bridge crossed the shallow water, and it was on this bridge Link stood as Zelda knelt in the grass before the shrine, hands clasped against her chest.

It had surprised him, given her usual aversion to it. When he’d asked why, she’d shrugged and said with a sheepish smile, “Habit, I suppose.” In a way he understood: despite all the changes that had rocked their lives in such a short span of time, this was a familiar and comfortable routine—something she could latch onto to ease her nerves.

It had admittedly been been odd to see her settled in front of the statue in her prayer dress. It was a familiar scene, one he’d observed dozens of times before when they’d been at the castle; yet now that familiarity was intruded upon by the sight of defunct guardians and burned-down buildings spread out across the lands beyond the moat. There were still moments, he was finding, when he had to remind himself that the Calamity had truly happened, and that Hyrule had changed in its wake.

Change… It seemed an inescapable state since defeating Ganon. In many ways, today would mark the transition into a post-calamity Hyrule—and the official start of a new life for each of them. Neither had made a public appearance since its defeat, and he wondered just how public perception had changed. How would the citizens of Hyrule greet them? He knew of his own popularity with the young women of the castle, his ‘fangirls’, as Zelda had called them; but what of the rest of Hyrule? With nothing but sorrow and loss and worry left in many of their lives to occupy their idle minds, gossip would likely become as valued a commodity as food or water. How much had the truth become distorted, positively or negatively? Would expectations be higher now that they’d accomplished such a tremendous feat? Would they be the subjects of undue hero-worship? Or worse, would they be feared?

A barely audible sigh escaped him as his thoughts chased themselves around in his head. Though wary, he was prepared to meet this change head-on. It wasn’t something he’d necessarily wanted or anticipated—he hadn’t anticipated drawing the Master Sword in the first place—but he’d long ago chosen to make a life of running head-long into dangerous and unexpected situations; this wasn’t so different. And besides, he always was one to roll with the punches. However the people ended up viewing him, he’d deal with it when it came.

Zelda, however, he worried about. He knew she was strong, but even her strength had limits—limits she had recently begun to run up against. She was already under a lot of stress from her responsibilities as Regent, not counting whatever feelings she had surrounding the Calamity—and public pressure was not a stress currently in the mix. Adding to that was the main event of the day. Funerals were tricky; they brought out all sorts of emotions in people, no matter how prepared they thought they were. He’d been through his share, and each had been harder than he’d thought it would be. This one seemed ready to be yet another trying experience she didn’t have time to process.

He shut his eyes momentarily, breathing deep as he solidified his resolve. However things ended up going today, no matter how hard, he’d be there for her. She wouldn’t have to suffer alone.

Link looked briefly over his shoulder to gaze at Zelda’s kneeling form. A light breeze tousled her long golden hair and fluttered the edges of her dress. Despite that, she looked focused, and strangely at peace. Link smiled, his stance softening momentarily as he gazed at her calm, still figure.

She deserved to be at peace, even if just for a moment.

-:-:-:-

The rest of the morning was spent following Zelda all across the castle grounds as she finalized preparations for the evening ceremony. Organizers and laborers and officials mobbed her at every turn with questions and concerns and otherwise undue fussing. She handled each inquiry with grace and kindness despite, in Link’s opinion, the idiocy and needlessness of some of the inquiries and requests. As he observed the fifth council member walk away, appeased after receiving her patient and dutiful attentions, he found himself marveling at how she managed so many people and tasks at once without utterly losing her head. The fact that it had taken her as long as it had to break under the pressure was astonishing now that he could see exactly how much there had been.

Until recently, most of Link’s time with the Princess had been dominated by her training. It alone had received the bulk of her attention for the year or so he’d spent as her knight prior to the Calamity. Aside from occasional indulgence in her scientific interests, he hadn’t seen her engage in matters of the Kingdom. Now that he had, he realized just how vast her capacity was; not that he’d ever really doubted, but believing in theory and seeing in reality were two different things. He smiled. She really would make a great Queen some day.

The flow of people trailing her slowly ebbed by late morning, and early afternoon found the two of them walking up the steps to the observation room balcony for a rare moment of peace. A cool breeze blew in through the arches, ruffling Zelda’s hair as she lifted her skirts to ascend the stairway. Link followed behind, subtly observing her swaying figure with a critical eye. There was a falter in her step, and her shoulders were slightly stooped. She was already getting tired and the ceremony hadn’t even started yet.

As she reached the top step, Zelda turned her head and spoke wryly but humorously over her shoulder, “You can stop looking at me like I’m about to fall over at any moment.”

Link’s expression wrinkled with chagrin. He climbed the final step, coming to stand next to her as he glanced at her sheepishly. She only smiled in response.

“I appreciate your concern, Link, really I do; but I’m doing alright—I don’t want you to worry. It’s been a long morning, yes, but its nothing a hearty lunch and cup of strong tea won’t fix.” She turned to glance at him, her long locks flowing gently over her shoulder as she offered him a reassuring smile before turning her attention to the scene that stretched out before them.

Castle Town, or what remained of Castle Town, lay spread out beyond the castle gate. Much of the rubble had either been cleared or piled for removal, but even still it was a disturbing sight. Zelda took several steps forward, coming to stand before the parapets and placing her hands lightly upon the stone. Link followed, eying her closely. She may say she was alright, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still going to keep an eye on her. Just in case.

A soft sigh escaped her as her eyes swept the landscape. The southern Castle Town gate and portions of the southern wall had been rebuilt, and the evidence of the coming ceremony was just barely visible in the form of banners and flags hung from the top of the wall and servants scurrying about like ants in the distance. A handful of wagons and horses had begun to fill the temporary stable she’d arranged further back along the road into Castle Town, but the gate and wall blocked the view of the new monuments and any early visitors.

She had erected two, one for civilians and one for soldiers, on either side of the road leading into the city—right where so many had met their end. He hadn’t seen them yet, but he would be very soon once they headed down for the start of the ceremony. The evening formalities were to take place on the other side of the wall, between the two monuments, on a podium hastily built by the construction crew specially for the ceremony. It was there she was to give her speech.

Yet despite the accomplishments of rebuilding the southern gate, burying thousands of people, erecting the monuments, and orchestrating a funeral within only a little over three weeks of the council meeting, Link sensed distinct uneasiness in her disposition. Knowing her, he suspected she was still displeased with her progress.

Zelda’s solemn voice broke the silence, confirming his suspicions.

“Already so much work has been done, and yet there is still so much more left to do. Rebuilding seems so daunting, and I find it difficult to imagine the end of it all.”

Link moved to stand beside her, observing her appraisingly as she continued with her eyes fixed ahead.

“I do have hope. During my training I always told myself: ‘One scales a mountain a single step at a time… one foot in front of the other’. It kept me going when it felt like there would be no end to my struggle.” She sighed. “But after the Calamity, it was so hard to maintain that perspective when what I thought would be the end turned out to simply be the beginning of another long and difficult journey.” She slowly turned, meeting his blue eyes with her own as a smile grew, “But you helped remind me. I don’t know how well I would be maintaining my positivity if it weren’t for you.”

She paused, gazing at him with a slightly furrowed brow as she seemed to debate something before slowly continuing, her voice soft as a faint blush rose to her cheeks. Her hands fidgeted upon the parapet. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you, but your support means the world to me. Thank you… for… for caring.”

He was taken aback by her words, feeling butterflies erupt in his stomach, but found himself smiling anyway. Her sparkling green eyes shone with sincerity, her head tilted in affection. He had a sudden urge to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, but stayed himself. Yet still, a warmth within him burned to be released. Instead, he reached forward and gently took her hand, feeling the softness and warmth of her skin beneath his calloused fingers. Meeting her gaze, he allowed himself simple but heartfelt words.

“You’re not alone. I’m here whenever you need me.”

Zelda’s smile broadened. The urge to hold her rose within him once more and unconsciously Link took a small step towards her, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand as he held her gaze. Her faint blush darkened ever so slightly. It was… adorable. He smiled.

The double-clack of a herald’s staff upon the stone floor startled Link from his reverie. A loud voice from the doorway echoed within the spacious room. “Your highness, Master Teba of the Rito has arrived.”

Zelda tore her gaze away from Link’s, taking a step back and turning her attention towards the stairway as she surreptitiously smoothed the bodice of her dress, “Oh… already? Time has really gotten away from me…”

She was flustered, that much was clear, but Link couldn’t be sure if it was simply a result of the sudden interruption or because of him. A small, foolish part of his heart hoped it was because of him.

As she continued to fiddle with her gown realization began dawn on him how foolhardy his action, small though it was, had been. They weren’t in the privacy of her chamber or the solitude of the sanctuary tower; he couldn’t allow himself to be so… familiar with. Though the balcony afforded them some degree of privacy, they were still in public. This was exactly when foolish mistakes would be made—when he started to get comfortable with her and lax in his behavior.

He could ill afford such a mistake.

Composed, Zelda turned on her heel swiftly, skirts flaring as she approached the steps to the arched entrance of the observation room.

“Thank you Harold, please show him in.”

Gathering up her skirts she headed down the stairs as the herald disappeared around the corner. When he returned, a white-feathered Rito entered carrying a paper-wrapped parcel in his arms. Harold disappeared around the corner, his job complete, as she approached their new guest. He bowed respectfully, uttering a low, “Your Highness.”

Zelda smiled politely, gesturing for him to rise.

“Thank you for coming, Master Teba. I hope you take no offense at my directness, I’ve much still to do today. Is this the bow?” She asked, gesturing to the parcel.

Teba nodded and extended the bow towards Zelda but she instead gestured towards Link.

“Please give it to Link, as he will be the one using it.”

Link followed her lead and stepped forward, arms extended to accept the package. Teba handed it to him then bowed slightly, stepping back with a smile.

“It is a pleasure to be in your presence Hero. If I may be so bold, I knew Master Revali personally and I expect if he here were still with us he would be honored for you to use his bow for tonight’s ceremony.”

Inwardly Link blanched but kept his expression neutral. Honored? HA! More like scoff in his face; But Teba need not know his thoughts. Nodding politely, he kept his response simple.

“Thank you.”

The Rito then turned back to the Princess.

“Master Teba, I wanted to again thank you for accepting my proposal, especially on such short notice.”

The Rito smiled, inclining his head. “It is my honor, Princess, to be the new Rito Champion. Though I admittedly feel I have large shoes to fill.” Zelda did not answer, and out of the corner of his eye Link could see her smile falter ever so slightly.

“I will not keep you. It has been a pleasure to meet you, your Highness, Hero. I wish you both well for tonight’s events.”

Zelda offered him a soft, “Thank You,” and with little more pomp he turned and left the room.

The parcel in his hands was light, and as Teba’s figure disappeared around the archway, Zelda turned to Link.

“Go ahead, open it. I’d wanted you to use this tonight for the closing ceremony. I thought it might be a nice way to honor Revali’s memory.”

Slowly Link peeled back the paper, revealing a gleaming golden bow within. He recognized it from the many times Revali had waved it proudly before him as he boasted of his skill in the art of archery. Vaguely he felt something bubble up within him as he hefted it in his hand, feeling the weight and the smoothness of the wood. As much as he and Revali had had their differences, he’d never wished him ill. Holding his bow in his hands, now, he felt the distinct pang of loss.

Suddenly Link felt a gentle squeeze on his forearm and he turned to see Zelda’s hand resting comfortingly on his arm. Glancing down, he noticed his hand clenched tightly around the bow’s grip, his knuckles white. Relaxing his fingers, he looked up distractedly to meet her eyes. She offered a compassionate, knowing smile, gently squeezing his arm once more—a silent, ‘I’m here’.

Inclining his head, he offered a small smile in return, allowing his gratitude to show in his eyes rather than with words. He wasn’t sure his voice would work, anyway. Allowing her gaze to linger a moment longer, she finally released his arm and nodded in the direction of the archway.

“Still more to do,” she said softly, with a hint of exasperation. Deftly he slung the bow on his back and turned to follow her as she headed into the hallway.

None of this was going to be easy—for either of them. Today would be long, and perhaps even a bit grueling. But Zelda was right: they’d take it one step at a time. They could do this—they could get through this. They just had to stick together, and trust in the other to catch them if they were to fall.

And after everything, Link rather found that was something he was more than happy to do.


	14. The Funeral, Part 2 - Pikango's Muse

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 14: The Funeral, Part 2 — Pikango’s Muse**

Pikango was prepared. He’d purchased a new set of pencils and a fresh sketchbook, a fresh set of water colors, and food for the road. It had taken all of the money he’d saved selling the sketches from his recent “Hyrule Traveler” series, but he was certain it would be worth it.

Several weeks ago, a rather harried looking soldier had ridden through town and posted two large broadsheets on the village call board before departing, quickly and without word to any in the village. It had taken a few days for the news to circulate, but once it had Kakariko was a-buzz. One broadsheet informed citizens of the state of the Kingdom post-Calamity, and provided reassurances of stability and efforts by the crown to begin recovery. The Princess, it seemed, was leading the charge while several officials, including her father, recovered from injury. The other announced a funeral—to be held before the Castle Town gate for those that had fallen in the Calamity a few weeks thence. Details were scarce, simply providing a date, time, and short list of provided services, but almost immediately people began to make arrangements. Though Kakariko itself had not suffered during the Calamity—it’s geographic location had kept it rather sheltered—everyone seemed to know someone who had.

Though he’d told people, when asked, that he too was going to mourn and support his fellow countrymen—which was true in part—the driving reason was his desire to capture this once-in-a-lifetime moment on paper; it would make a hell of an addition to his portfolio, and might even—finally—put his studio on the map. A bit self-serving? Perhaps. But that’s what it took to be a successful artist—a little gumption, a little self-interest, and a whole lot of practice. He had the practice down pat—he’d been sketching and painting since he was a young man in his twenties—now he just needed to be a little bolder with his muse.

Sure it was a sad affair—funerals were always sad, but that didn’t make it any less compelling as subject matter. He didn’t know what he’d find or what would draw his artistic eye, but this was a pivotal moment—living, breathing history; he was sure there would be plenty to sketch. And, though he wasn’t sure of the likelihood, he secretly hoped he might catch a glimpse of the Hero of Hyrule and the Princess of Destiny, as people had taken to calling them . A sketch of the two of them would certainly make a nice piece to add to his collection.

Pikango’s brushes and pots jangled from the pack on his back as he neared the Wetland stable. He’d taken the shortcut down the Sahasra Slope from Kakariko and had so far enjoyed a solitary journey. However, as he neared the Stable the steady thrum of chatter began to overwhelm the chirping of birds and the buzzing of crickets, which had thus far characterized his journey. As he crested the hill and the Stable came into view, so too did the crowd of people responsible for the noise.

The stable was packed: so overwhelmed were the lodgings that guests had parked covered wagons and set up tents and bedrolls in a wide arc surrounding the establishment, even cramming into the woods behind it. The stable staff could be seen darting from tent to tent in a flustered flurry as families and couples and solo travelers went about their morning ablutions. He’d intended to stop here to prepare breakfast, not giving much thought to the plans or intentions of other travelers, but now that he was here…

Was this what every stable near Hyrule Field looked like? He had guessed that as he neared the castle he’d start to run in to others traveling to the funeral, but he’d never anticipated… What a sight! Pikango could feel his excitement swell and his fingers itch. Spotting a lone tree uphill a ways from the stable just off the road, Pikango made a slight detour, heading for the shaded trunk.

Pulling his pack off with an “Oomph!”, he leaned it against the trunk of the tree before settling on the ground himself, digging through the pockets for his fresh sketchbook and pencils. Pulling his legs up and setting the book against them, he let inspiration flow through his fingertips.

It was heartwarming in some ways to see so many people coming to pay their respects. It was heartbreaking in others to see just how many people had been affected. Faces both young and old, happy and sad filled the stable and its grounds. There was such diversity present: sun-darkened figures from Lurelin, pale faces from the frigid north, even a few Aora could be seen wandering the crowds, near the river.

He’d become lost in his lines on the paper and so was not expecting the youthful voice which spoke suddenly from over his shoulder.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Pikango startled, fumbling with his pencil before dropping it to the ground. Delicately picking it up with two fingers, he turned in annoyance towards the voice only to be greeted by the impassive face of Ami hovering just over his shoulder. One of the young sons of the stable master, he and the uncannily intelligent child had struck up an odd friendship over the years, as he frequented the stable as a stop on his travels. Though admittedly, Ami’s… inquisitive nature, could sometimes be trying on Pikango’s patience.

He returned his attention to his sketchpad, attempting to shuffle off the distraction.

“Hello, Ami. I am doing what it looks like I am doing. I’m sketching.”

Ami’s impassive face suddenly appeared just above his sketchpad, and Pikango startled yet again. How did this child move so quietly?

“Yeah, I gathered that. But why are you drawing the stable? You’ve been here tons of times and never drawn it before.”

Pikango was familiar with kids. Curious, impressionable, delicate little creatures they were. In Kakariko, when Koko’s mother passed away any mention of illness or death sent her into bouts of tears. She once came across a dead lizard out in the woods while she was playing one day and ran back to the village sobbing. Ami was a smart kid, but he didn’t really know how well he grasped the significance of the Calamity and, more immediately, the coming funeral. Best to tread carefully.

“Well,” Pikango began carefully, “It’s not so much the stable I’m interested in drawing as it is all the people staying at the stable, and why. Make sense?”

Ami’s usually impassive face somehow looked even more solemn as he answered.

“Yeah, makes sense. It’s because everyone is heading to the funeral.”

Pikango nodded, eying the child’s heavy eyes. Had Ami lost someone in the Calamity, he wondered?

“Are you going to the funeral?” Ami asked, turning his gaze towards the distant Hyrule Castle, just visible on the horizon.

“That I am,” Pikango answered following his gaze, “I figured once I was done with this here little sketch I’d continue on my way. I was going to stop here for breakfast but it seems a few too many others had the same idea.”

Ami’s expression briefly lit up as he reached into his vest and pulled out an apple.

“If you’re hungry, then have this! Mom insisted I have fruit with my breakfast, but I’ve never liked apples.”

He extended his hand, little fingers gripping the shiny red fruit. Pikango’s stomach rumbled. He’d brought plenty of ingredients for preparing meals but had foolishly managed to overlook meals of the grab-and-go variety. With a somewhat sheepish grin Pikango plucked the apple from the little boys hands and rubbed it quickly on his shirt.

“Thank Ami. This will hit the spot.”

He smiled, nodding. “No problem! You’re doing me a favor.”

Pikango took a solid bite out of the fruit, returning his attention to the notebook before him, pondering the scene. He still had a few more details to add, but with a little more shading he thought he just about had it. Raising his pencil in his other hand, he moved it thoughtfully towards the paper.

“You know,” Ami interrupted. Pikango stilled, trying to stifle rising annoyance. The kid had just given him breakfast.

“Me and my Mom and my Grandma are taking one of the wagons to the castle for the funeral in about an hour if you’d like to come with us. There’s plenty of room, and Grandma loves art.”

Oh. Pikango lifted his head to meet the cooly calculating eyes of Ami. A wagon ride might be nice, save his legs a little for the return journey, but this seemed like the kind of thing that came with a catch.

“That would be great,” he responded with a smile, narrowing his eyes slightly, “Your Grandma likes art, huh?”

Ami looked away and shuffled his feet.

“Yeah. And, if I’m honest, I figure if she has you to talk to then I don’t have to entertain her. She has bad breath.”

Pikango chuckled. There was always a catch with this kid. Still, he was not one to turn down a free ride. Walking back up Sahasra Hill often made him debate the merits of taking the long way back to Kakariko. Best if he save up energy.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Ami.”

Ami brightened. “Cool! I’ll go tell mom.” He then turned and scurried back down the hill towards the bustling stable, weaving in and out of travelers.

Pikango leaned back against the tree, watching the kid go. Better finish up his sketch then. Taking another bite out of his apple, he looked back down at his notebook and put pencil to paper, melting into the task.

-:-:-:-

An hour later found Pikano seated in the back of a rickety wooden wagon, attempting to sketch Hyrule field with a reedy elderly woman leaning eagerly over his shoulder. Clearly this habit in Ami was a family trait.

A gentle breeze ruffled the pages of his notebook as he tried to center his attention solely on the paper before him, adding detail to the castle where it poked up above the gently rolling hills of the field. He’d already sketched much of the field itself, and the line of travelers and caravans filling the road heading to the gates of Castle Town. It was quite a sight, really. He’d traveled through Hyrule field plenty of times, and while it was never empty it was never this full either. The road was packed with travelers, all heading in the same direction like pilgrims to a new land.

“Ah, Hyrule castle,” droned Emily, Ami’s grandmother who’d been observing Pikango’s work over his shoulder. The smell of fish and vinegar and old age wafted suddenly into his nose. Woof. Ami wasn’t kidding. Halitosis, much? She turned her head momentarily away from Pikango to look at the castle proper—thank the goddesses—before speaking again, “Even that sturdy, ageless structure suffered under the calamity. Truly a shame.”

Pikango added some shading to the castle’s eaves and some detail to the brick, leaning a little more forward as he eyed his work critically, but was interrupted by the pungent fish-smell that was Emily’s breath as she leaned into him and whispered conspiratorially, “I heard the Princess herself arranged this entire funeral, all because the council couldn’t be bothered. She’s going to be giving a big speech at sunset you know. She’d be well within her right to call them out on it, if you ask me.”

Pikango perked at this information. An opportunity to see the Princess and her knight! Maybe there would be a chance for that most compelling sketch! His demeanor changed as he realized that maybe Emily was worth more than her bad breath.

Flashing a charming smile, Pikango turned to her, “Really? I hadn’t heard. Do tell.”

Emily’s face lit up as the tempered grin of an experienced gossip monger took over her features, “Oh, yes. I heard it was QUITE the council meeting! I’ve got an old friend in the castle, see. Those old coots tried to just bowl her over—take advantage of her young age, but she wouldn’t have it. Apparently our Princess gave those stodgy council members a right talking-to about the sacrifices of Hyrule’s ordinary folk! Just like the Queen, Goddesses bless her!”

She leaned a little more forward, raising a hand as she whispered in earnest.

“And, I heard her knight—the Hero Link, was nominated to be the General of the Hyrulean army—and he refused! All to remain the the Princess’ appointed knight! If you ask me, I think he might just have an ulterior motive, if you know what I mean.” She waggled her eyebrows subtly with this final revelation, “She is a lovely girl.”

Pikango nodded vigorously. Ah, the flowering of young love! Or, well, rumor of the flowering of young love! Truly such a pair would be star-crossed lovers, much like the subjects of the ancient Hylian romantic poets and painters. Hmmm… He’d have to be sure to keep an eye out. Maybe there was more opportunity here than he’d originally thought.

Quickly, Pikango added the final touches to his sketch so he could return his attention to Emily’s juicy and informative gossip, but was distracted by the sight which greeted him as they rounded the final bend in the road. Ami’s mother gasped, the reigns slackening in her hands. Before them not a half mile ahead milled hundreds—no, thousands!—of people, gathered before the newly rebuilt southern Castle Town gate. A tall, wide podium rose above the crowd, erected before the closed gates, and large banners of blue, red, and gold hung from the wall. Flags fluttered in the breeze atop the parapets, which were patrolled by guards in shining silver armor. The most striking feature, however, were the two monuments placed on either side of the road leading into the city. They were difficult to make out from this distance but they looked like two short walls covered in etchings, each surrounded by people.

Ami’s quiet voice interrupted the solemn moment from the front of the wagon.

“Wow.”

Wow, indeed. Never had Pikango seen so many people in one place before, not even at the Necluda Harvest festival, and it was one of the largest seasonal events in Hyrule.

“My gracious.” Pikango turned to Emily beside him whose hand was clasped loosely over hear heart as she stared transfixed at the sight before her.

Utilizing the utmost discretion, Pikango quietly flipped the page of his sketch book and quickly set pencil to paper. He wouldn’t have time to capture much before they noticed him, he’d have to be quick about getting the rough outlines first and fill in the details from memory later. First a hunched figure in a wagon, a woman and young boy at the driver’s seat, a saddled horse, the road, people milling in the distance, trees, the walls, the banners…

“Dear man, is that supposed to be me?! I look like a hunch-back! Fix that immediately!” accused an affronted Emily, whose attentions had returned to Pikango’s notebook. Pikango looked up, the smell of vinegar pungent once more in his nose. Exhaling subtly to clear the foul smell from his nostrils, he turned to face the old woman. Well! He hadn’t necessarily expected praise, but he hadn’t expected criticism either. What a fussy old bat!

“It’s a rough outline, I’ll be fine-tuning it later,” he responded shortly. Emily eyed him suspiciously.

“Well. You better.” With those succinct words she turned away and returned her gaze to the fields beyond. From up front he could see Ami swivel in his seat, eying Pikango with a twinkle in his eye. Though perhaps childish, Pikango stuck out his tongue. Ami flashed a wicked grin, then turned back around to face the road. He could see why the kid had wanted Pikango along. He imagined spending frequent time with Emily could wear a kid out (and if not that, then certainly contribute to the singing of nose hairs). Still, he’d gotten breakfast and a free ride. He supposed it was a reasonable price to pay.

Ahead an impromptu stable had been arranged on the side of the road for horses and wagons, bordered by a hastily built wooden fence and manned by several guards. The sun was beginning its descent after its mid-day peak, and as Ami’s mother turned the wagon into the lot excitement began to build within the artist. He had finally arrived—time to make the most of this opportunity.

-:-:-:-

Pikango was adjusting himself in his impromptu tree-seat, finding a comfortable place to lean back as he settled his sketchbook into his lap. He and Ami’s family had parted ways about an hour ago. Pikango had wandered through the crowd, trying to find a good vantage point from which to view the podium, but every time he thought he found a good spot others followed and blocked his view. After a while he spotted some young kids climbing up a tree, pointing eagerly at the podium, and decided to follow suit. Choosing one in direct view, he’d climbed and settled into the split within the branches. A few limbs had blocked him, but with a couple well-placed kicks he’d managed to dislodge the obstructions, leaving them dangling from the tree and out of his field of vision.

Finally settling into a comfortable position, Pikango stared up at the branches. There was still a little over an hour to go until sunset, and Pikango had sketched all he wanted to sketch until the Princess’ speech. Perhaps a review was in order. Looking down at the sketchbook in his lap, he flipped to the first page.

Wetland stable greeted him, the head of Malanya, the Horse God, rising high above the overcrowded building. Indistinct figures milled about—he hadn’t had time for actual faces, and wagons and horses filled the remaining space. He flipped the page.

A reedy, wrinkled woman greeted him. Stern, dark eyes stared out of the page, framed by wispy, white, shoulder-lengthy hair. Hardly his best sketch, he’d just sort of thrown it together, but Emily had insisted. It did have a strange sort of charm, somehow. He flipped several more pages.

A flat stone monument with intricate carvings stood erect before the Castle Town wall, surrounded by a bed of flowers with wooden posts on either side, supporting softly glowing lanterns. A wooden bench sat before it, upon which several figures were hunched. One had their head in their hands, clearly crying. Another stared solemnly at the names carved into the stone’s surface. Kneeling before the monument, hand tracing one name in particular, was a young woman with a lone tear running down her cheek as she gazed unseeing at the stone before her. A smug grin alighted upon his face. He was rather proud of this one. He flipped the page.

A young woman with a large pack and brunette pig tails, her face dotted with freckles, chatted intently with a guard who looked rather disinterested in her presence. He chuckled, then flipped the page.

This one held a collection of small sketches rather than any single scene. In one corner he’d sketched one of the Hyrulean banners, in another the helmed face of one of the guards, eyes serious; in yet another, the champion’s platform to the left of the central podium, decorated with tall banners in blue, red, and gold. The champions had not yet arrived when he’d done this sketch, much to his disappointment—he would have loved to capture them as well.

He was startled out of his reverie by the blaring of trumpets which overpowered the chatter of people filling the ceremony site. Turning his attention away from his sketchbook, Pikango glanced around in confusion. The sunlight which had been filtering into the trees, earlier a blinding white, was now a soft gold. It seemed evening was upon him already—He always did get so absorbed in his art. Another round of trumpets blared, and he sat up a bit in his seat, turning his attention to the center podium. There stood several pages, trumpets held against their lips and a flagpole in their other hand. He sat up straight, renewed focus and energy flooding him. With eagerness he flipped to a clean page within his notebook and set his pencil to the paper, waiting.

As the trumpeters finished, the crowd hushed and a herald stepped forward, thumping his staff twice with great force atop the wooden podium. “Announcing her Highness, Princess Zelda Cerynn Hyrule.”

From an unseen set of stairs at the rear of the podium the Princess ascended, walking gracefully towards the front railing. The Hero followed closely behind her, as did several royal guards who formed a line along the rear of the podium behind the Hero, just out of sight in the shadows.

She was dressed all in black, wearing a simple, unadorned gown, the long sleeves of which billowed in the breeze along with her golden hair. Her diadem shone atop her head, glinting in the evening light. She looked out over the crowd with large, somber, serious eyes, gently placing her hands atop the wooden railing. In turn, the crowd had stilled to a tense silence. None had seen the princess since her remarkable feats defeating the Calamity, and, though immensely curious, none knew what to expect. She began softly, though her voice held strength.

“Greetings, and welcome. I know many of you traveled far to be here today, and I thank you—all of you—for your presence.”

“I speak to you today, not as the Princess of Hyrule, but as a citizen of this great Kingdom. Each of you who stands here before me, despite hailing from different regions and backgrounds, has the same thing in common: loss. You have come to say farewell; to mourn your lost loved ones, and to share in the heartache of this great tragedy.”

She paused, closing her eyes. As she opened them, they darted briefly to her knight standing off to the side before continuing, focusing on the crowd with intensity.

“I share that with you.”

She lifted a hand to her heart, gaze sweeping the riveted crowd, “Hyrule is my home, and all of its people are my family. So many were lost… and each of those losses hurts. Every night since the Calamity, I have lain awake feeling that hurt ache in my heart. I have no doubt I am not alone in this, and so this I also share with you.” She held herself almost unnaturally still, letting her words linger before continuing in a quieter voice.

“I am reminded of the loss of the Queen, my mother, a decade ago.” The crowd began to shift as quiet murmurs filled the space. The princess had never spoken of the loss of her mother; in fact she had become well known for her stolidness in the face of such a tragedy—rumor had it she never once cried. And after the funeral and the raid on the Yiga, the King hadn’t spoken much of it either.

Pikango’s sketchbook lay momentarily forgotten where it rested in his lap. The crowd seemed equally enraptured.

The Princess continued undaunted, her soft voice silencing the murmuring crowd. “That was a pain which cut deeply into my heart, and to this day there still remains a scar. In the months which followed her death, though I gave every effort to moving past it, still I found myself silently lost to despair. I didn’t understand how I was ever supposed to get over the loss of something so great—so close to my heart. It felt as though I would awaken every morning feeling this pain, as fresh and as sharp as the day the Yiga assassin claimed her life.” She paused once more, sorrow evident upon her delicate features.

“I imagine many of you must feel the same.”

Utter silence filled the clearing, and as her words rang in his head, Pikango couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d seen little Koko, stifling her sobs as she knelt, alone, before her mother’s grave at the edge of the village. A lump formed in the back of his throat, and with effort he swallowed it back.

Reluctantly tearing his gaze from the Princess, Pikango took a moment to survey the crowd. Throughout the clearing husbands held wives and children clung to parents. A young woman held a hand to their mouth as tears flowed freely from her eyes. An older gentleman and his wife clung to each other as he lifted a hand to wipe away her tears, wetness shining in his own eyes. Pikango suddenly felt something wet drop atop his hand. Looking down, he saw a single tear resting atop the back of his hand. With shaky fingers he lifted his hand to his face, and felt the wet track along his cheek.

His eyes were drawn back to the podium upon hearing the Princess’ soft voice echo out over the crowd once more. “One day in my despair, I begged a friend: ‘How am I ever to forget her? How could it ever stop hurting?’ I will never forget her words. She said: ‘My little bird; I love you, and so will not lie to you: You will never forget her, and in some ways it will never stop hurting. Death is not an end, it is a change. It is in our nature to fight this change with all that we have, but it is a fight we will always lose. We are our scars, as much as we are our joys and triumphs. You must come to accept this experience as a part of you, and when you do, you will see the path forward.”

The Princess shut her eyes as she took a breath.

“And she was right.”

“Though it took time and the support of many people—and though it hurt more than words can express, I finally came to accept my mother’s passing, and I came to accept how that experience had changed me. It was then, and only then, that I could see how to keep living, and how to keep her alive despite the fact that she was no longer with me.”

A small, fragile smile alighted upon the Princess’ somber features, “I know it was my mother’s every wish to see me happy and thriving, not wallowing in sorrow. And so every day, no matter how difficult, I make a choice not to despair but instead to live my life to its fullest in celebration of her memory. And to this end, I remember her: her tenderness, her kindness, her love and her strength. I hold these things close to my heart, and do all I can to embody these qualities in myself. For while she is no longer by my side, she is never truly gone if she lives in my heart.”

That lump was back in Pikango’s throat, and despite himself he could feel tears welling in his eyes once more. Though he couldn’t bring himself to pull his gaze from the Princess, he knew every other person present was in a similar state.

“As my dear friend, and many others, were there for me, I beg all of you to be there for each other. We are part of the same Kingdom—members of the same family, spread out across these vast lands, but no less connected by our shared history and mutual love for Hyrule. We have only each other. I ask each of you to be there for one another—to be kind, and understanding of the difficulties we are all sharing; and as I ask this of you, so too do I pledge to be there for each of you.”

She paused to gaze out across the crowd, her eyes sweeping over the many assembled faces before she spoke again, louder this time and with resolve. “And so here, today, let us gather to remember those whom we have lost.” The Princess raised both of her hands, gesturing towards the two monuments on either side of the road, “In these monuments do we mark their time here on earth, and honor the place they held within these lands, and the place they will always hold within our hearts.”

Like the sun breaking through the clouds, she smiled, brilliant and radiant, its light shining out across the gathered crowd.

The princess lifted a hand without turning from the crowd. The Hero stepped forward, coming from where he’d been hidden in the shadows to stand beside her. He stood tall, face impassive and arms held behind his back. The people of Hyrule had not seen much of the Hero over the past year, and often when they had he had been dressed more casually in his champion’s tunic, pack on his back escorting the Princess across Hyrule as she journeyed to the sacred springs.

But now… now, he was dressed in Knight’s armor, standing tall and regal. Though the other castle guards were also dressed in Knight’s armor, the Hero stood out from the rest: he lacked a helmet, for one, revealing his blond hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, and his tabard was a lighter blue, bearing the design of a champion rather than the Hyrulean crest as was tradition. More than that, though, the Master Sword hung from his side, marking him as the Chosen of Hylia herself. And together, with the Princess standing tall with regal authority beside him… well, they rather looked like a King and Queen.

Two stewards appeared suddenly, one beside the princess and one beside the Hero, each proffering a glowing paper lantern the size of a large pumpkin, and both in Hyrulean blue. The Princess reached for hers first, followed by the Hero. Holding them just above the wooden railing, the lanterns illuminated their faces in pale blue, a stark contrast to the golden light of the setting sun.

The row of soldiers standing behind the two of them knelt down synchronously, rising with similar glowing paper lanterns, but white in color. The Princess raised a hand towards the row of soldiers behind her, and together they took a step forward out of the shadows.

“May these lanterns represent the souls of our loved ones as they ascend into the silent realm, to rest in peace with the Goddesses. Be at peace, friends.”

Behind her the guards released their lanterns and as one, they rose slowly into the air, glowing brightly against the darkening sky. Task completed, the guards took a step back, resuming their positions in the shadows at the rear of the podium. The Princess then returned her attention to the lantern in her hand. Though her voice quavered ever so slightly, it still held the confident authority of a Princess.

“And may our fallen champions, Master Revali of the Rito, and Princess Mipha of the Zora, be greeted at the gates of the silent realm with honor and dignity by the Goddesses themselves, for it is due in part to their sacrifice that we are able to stand here today.”

For the first time since she began to speak, a single tear rolled silently down her cheek as she turned her head momentarily towards her hero, who met her gaze steadfastly. His prior stoicism slowly melted away as their eyes locked, his gaze transforming into one of tenderness. A wordless understanding passed between them—a shared pain. Subtly, and with the merest hint of a smile, he nodded his head. The Princess’ gaze lingered only for a moment before she returned her attention to the balloon in her hand, the Hero following suit. Together, they lifted them above their heads and released simultaneously, eyes tracking as the glowing blue orbs slowly ascended to join their brethren higher in the sky.

The hero stepped to the side then, resuming his stoic facade as he pulled a bow from his back and knocked an odd-looking arrow. The row of soldiers behind him followed suit. The Princess turned her attention to the crowd before her, expression now calm as she spoke with renewed strength.

“May we honor their lives in the actions of our own, and may their memories live on in our hearts forevermore.”

The princess then began to recite a traditional funeral rite, as one by one the row of archers behind her released their arrows.

“By the will of the Three are we born of their love.  
By guidance of the Three do we live in harmony.  
By decree of the Three, when our time is through, do we return to the silent realm anew.”

High in the sky the arrows exploded into a brilliant shower of white sparks, illuminating the sky above the balloons and throwing them into sharp relief against the twilight sky. The crowd gasped, gazing skyward in awe as murmurs rippled across the thronging mass, light from the showering sparks illuminating tear-streaked faces.

“May the Three greet you at journey’s end:  
Din from whose power came the land;  
Nayru from whose wisdom came order of strife;  
Farore from whose courage came all life.  
To them your soul do we release.  
In tenderness and truth, find peace.”

Upon her final words, the hero released his arrows. They flew higher into the sky than the others and when they exploded, they did so in a brilliant shower of gold sparks far grander than any of the others. The princess finished the rite by marking herself with the golden triangle, drawing a hand from the top of her bowed forehead to her left shoulder, across to her right, then up again. Looking up, she then smiled ever so slightly, turning briefly to catch the Hero’s gaze before gently lifting her skirts and heading towards the steps at the rear of the platform.

By that point Pikango had ceased to pay attention. The sparks had jarred him back to reality, and back to his original purpose for being there. His head was bent, cheeks still wet as he scribbled furiously in his notebook. The sight of the two of them, standing there together… Bearing a shared sorrow with regal poise and purpose! Such tenderness! Such silent affection! Perhaps the rumors about them hadn’t been wrong…

Quickly Pikango flipped the page, immediately setting to work on the outline of another sketch, focusing to keep every moment of her speech in his mind’s eye as he preserved scene after scene on paper. Minutes passed, then half an hour, then an hour, and as Pikango put the finishing touches on his sixth sketch he finally looked up, feeling his neck crack with stiffness as he did so. The sun had set, a while ago it seemed by the darkness which now pervaded the ceremony site. Lanterns illuminated the area, hung from poles held by guards spaced throughout the clearing. A large bonfire had been built and now blazed with light and warmth in the center of the junction in the road, with simple wooden benches placed around it. People filled the available seating, eating and chatting. Everyone was eating, it seemed. Hm… food? Where had everyone gotten so much food?

Looking up towards the podium where the Princess had given her speech, he spotted a line of people winding their way up a set of steps which had been placed before the podium, the railing removed to allow people access to what he now realized was a long table filled to the brim with various dishes. Pikango felt his stomach grumble. He glanced quickly at his sketchbook, then back to the podium. Perhaps a dinner break was in order. Stashing his notebook and pencils back into his pack, he clambered down the tree and headed north.

A half hour later found him seated around the bonfire with Granny Emily, Ami, and his mother Serina finishing the delicious meal provided by the castle. The princess hadn’t spared any effort: There was roast duck, curried rice, freshly baked bread, cream of mushroom soup, a variety of fruits… The smells alone caused his mouth to water as he had approached the podium.

As he finished off the last of his bread, Grandma Emily ranting on about the rumors she’d picked up within the crowd next to him, he felt a strange peace settle over him. It hadn’t been anything overly grand the Princess had arranged, despite the fireworks—there was no procession or formal honoring as there had been in mass funerals of the past, and in all honesty that podium had been shoddily built. It was simply a gathering of citizens, warmed by a cozy fire with bellies full of good food reminiscing about those they’d lost; but he felt connected to his Kingdom in a way he hadn’t since he was a child. All of this… her words, the meal, this atmosphere she had created, it felt like just the thing needed to heal the aching souls that occupied these lands. She really was proving to be quite the born leader, even if it was only temporary—and at such a young age!

Setting down his napkin onto his lap, he reached into his pack and pulled out his sketchbook and began flipping through it. He’d managed to create quite a number, possibly the most he’d ever done in a single day. As he analyzed his work, he felt happy with all of them, but one in particular stood out: The Princess and her Hero, gazing deeply into one another’s eyes as they held their balloons, just moments before releasing them into the sky. It resonated with him. Looking at their faces, the sense of mutual loss but also hope… Snapping his notebook shut, he grinned. There it was: the subject for his next painting—and possibly a new muse. Move over, Elmond Faire Payton, there’s a new romantic painter in Hyrule!

Boy was he glad he decided to come.


	15. The Funeral, Part 3 - Traysi's Investigation

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 15: The Funeral, Part 3: Traysi’s Investigation**

“Miss, I stand by the crown’s statement, as I have already stated. If you continue to disrupt my post I will have you removed from the ceremony.”

Traysi furrowed her brow but shut her mouth as it was well on its way to its next question. Clearly she would get nothing from this guard. If she wanted to maintain a respectable front she’d need to cut it short here and backtrack in her aggression. Lowering her notebook and folding it neatly, she hid her consternation behind a forced smile, nodding respectfully at the man.

“Well, thank you very much, sir, for your time. And thank you for your service.”

The guard eyed her suspiciously, grip tightening around the pole which held his lantern aloft before finally nodding in return and resuming his stance. Traysi turned and walked away from the stable entrance and back towards the crowd milling around the bonfire erected in the road between the two monuments. Her pack jangled with her footfalls as she made her way up the road. She’d thought perhaps the guards stationed on the fringes might be newbies that she could manipulate into loosening their tongue, but it seemed the Princess and the council had placed all their best men on the ground. Rats.

Traysi KNEW there was some truth to this rumor. She’d first picked it up from a stable boy at the Riverside Stable who’d heard it from his cousin who was a stable boy at the Wetland Stable who’d heard it from a farmer in the Lanyru Wetlands who supplied the castle with rice, who’d heard it from a castle scullery maid, who’d overheard two nurses talking in hushed whispers in the castle corridors about how they doubted whether “the King would ever recover”. When she’d asked Barlow about it, he’d hesitated before uncomfortably repeating the council’s statement almost word for word. Barlow was always an easy tell, which was why she’d buddied up to him a year and a half ago when the Master Sword had been drawn. She’d wanted an inside man on castle gossip, and he’d proved over that time a most valuable asset—especially over a pint or two of ale.

Some of the rumors she’d picked up elsewhere were a bit wild: that the King had been assassinated during the calamity by his own council, that he’d been turned into a poe by Ganon. Others seemed somewhat more likely: That the king was slowly dying, that his injuries had caused amnesia and he was no longer fit to rule or that he’d hit his head so hard he thought he was a fairy. Whatever the case, something was seriously wrong with the King and the council wanted to keep it under wraps.

She could understand, the Calamity had only just been defeated, but still she worried what an ailing King—and a lying council—could mean for Hyrule. If he was dying or ill enough to be unable to rule in a more permanent capacity, where did that leave the Kingdom? Would it entice enemy nations to seek dominion over them? Would they be safe from dangers within the Kingdom? She’d heard rumor from more than one source of increased Yiga activity in recent weeks. And though there was an heir, she was so young; was she ready to lead the kingdom through a potential crisis? But even more than that, she was the last of her line. What did they do if something happened to her?

Which led to the big, unsolved question: What exactly was going on, and how did that affect the people? Being the intrepid journalist (and rumor-monger) she was, Traysi was determined to find out.

She walked away in barely-concealed annoyance, considering her options. This guard had proved a dead end, as had been all the ones before him. She was having no luck it seemed, and with darkness falling she was starting to run out of steam. Perhaps a break was in order.

As she neared the southern gate, she neatly dodged a pack of children running down the road playing an impassioned game of tag and approached the line up to the buffet table with hungry anticipation. It had, thankfully, thinned after the first wave of people had eaten their fill, and she found herself situated near the bottom of the steps up to the podium, behind a thin Sheikah man whose pack jangled with paint brushes.

Traysi mused on the day as the line slowly moved forward. Though her progress in confirming the rumor surrounding the King had gained really no traction, the trip had not been a complete waste: it had been an exceptionally moving ceremony. She’d seen and done a lot of things, been a lot of places, and so wasn’t one easily moved to tears; but even Traysi couldn’t hold back the emotions the Princess’ speech had evoked. She’d always been somewhat ambivalent towards the Princess, but today had done much to endear her to the journalist. She seemed a sincere and caring young woman, if a bit naive, and she had unquestioningly proved her love of Hyrule in her actions not a month ago. It had been a relief to find all those pre-Calamity rumors utterly false.

She’d heard plenty of them before Ganon had emerged, and most (if not all) had not been kind. There were the rumors that the Goddess’ power had died out of the royal line, there were rumors that the Princess, in all her luxury and finery, just didn’t care enough to try. There were rumors that the Goddesses were punishing her for some publicly-unknown slight against them. As the years passed and she continued to show no results, the people had taken to accusing her of being heir to a throne of nothing but failure. They were afraid, and losing hope.

Traysi hadn’t bothered to pursue the rumors, in part, because she didn’t really want to know. The prospect of their only hope of defeating the coming Calamity being unable to harness the needed power was a horrifying prospect, and one that induced heart-palpitating nightmares of what might be coming. So Traysi had ignored them because a small part of her feared they might be true. She wanted to hold fast to the hope that the Princess would pull through for them; and thank the Goddesses her faith had proved worthwhile.

As the Sheikah man ahead of her stepped up onto the platform, Traysi finally came in view of the table and her stomach rumbled at the sight. So much food! There must have been twenty different dishes! And for each dish which was polished off, scullery maids swooped in to replace them with a fresh, steaming plate brought down from the castle kitchens. This was truly a banquet. Eagerly, Traysi grabbed a plate—a simple unglazed stoneware affair, and began piling it high. There were breads, meats, rice, fruits and vegetables… Well, that was another point in the Princess’ favor! Plate filled, Traysi made her way back down the podium towards an empty seat surrounding the bonfire and tucked in.

She unabashedly devoured her meal. She’d made the trek to the ceremony from the Lanayru Wetlands where she’d been following up on her lead regarding the King’s condition. Though she’d stopped at stables along the way for full meals and a bed in which to rest her weary bones, she’d still spent a couple nights camping in the wild and eating solely from her small supply of dried fruits and meats. So this meal, this rich, delicious, savory meal, was just the the ticket to refill her energy reserves. By the time she’d polished off the last drumstick on her plate, she felt ready to give interviewing another go.

Handing off her dishware to one of the castle servants, she looked around critically to see who she hadn’t already hit up. The guards at the podium? Nope, already talked to them. Hmm… The guards at the bonfire? Nope, she’d covered them too. Scanning her eyes along the road, she noticed a small but dense crowd of people. In front of the civilian monument, lit brightly by a series of lanterns artfully placed around it, the crowd moved and shifted, suddenly revealing the Princess emerging from the gaggle, escorted by her Knight. She was speaking with each around her in turn, some bowing, other kissing her hand.

The crowd was slowly thinning, and as the Princess made to head in her direction a sudden thought occurred to her. It was bold, even by her standards, and if she wasn’t careful it would come across suspiciously; but the daring, insatiably curious part of her personality urged her to give it a shot. With projected calm, Traysi made steady strides towards the Princess.

An older woman held the Princess’ hand reverently as she approached, bowing repeatedly with tears glistening in her eyes.

“It just means so much to me—for you to truly understand what I am going through, your Highness, I just… thank you, thank you…”

The Princess nodded, offering a small smile, and lifted her free hand to pat the elder woman’s where she tightly grasped her hand. Traysi slowly approached as the elder woman released the Princess, backing away with repeated thank you’s. Heart pumping, she mentally prepared her words as the Princess turned her attention to her, offering a polite smile. Stuffing any of her lingering nervousness aside, Traysi met her gaze and spoke with a put-on air of excitement.

“It is an honor to meet you, your Highness. Your speech was truly moving.” The Princess nodded to her, gazing kindly.

“Thank you. What is your name?”

“My name is Trrr…isha. My name is Trisha… Smith, your Highness.” Inside Traysi felt a cold chill run up her spine. That was close! Giving away her real name would be a dead give away to who she was, and what she might be up to. Her last issue of The Rumor Mill had sold like hot cakes and gained her a good deal of notoriety. Best to keep who she really was under wraps.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Trisha. Where do you hail from?”

Brushing off the near-miss, Traysi tried to re-focus on the conversation, and her performance.

“I hail from Menoat, your Highness, south of here.”

The Princess nodded knowingly, “That is a long way to travel. Thank you for your attendance, today. It is my hope that through this loss we might all forge new connections—near and far.”

“Indeed, your Highness, that is a noble goal,” Allowing a momentary pause for effect, Traysi ignored the rapid beating of her heart and spoke her pre-prepared words, “If it is not too bold to say, when you shared your experience—of the loss of your mother, I was so moved.” She let her voice wobble just a bit before continuing with heavily put-on concern, “Though, I can’t imagine how hard that experience must make it feel for your father to still be recovering from his injuries. How does the King fare, your Highness? I know all of Hyrule wishes him well.”

Traysi held her breath as the words left her lips, eying the Princess closely, blood rushing in her ears. She was rewarded with an almost immediate reaction. The Princess’ countenance, only moments ago displaying friendly politeness, shut down the moment she’d mentioned the King. More than that, though, her Knight shifted just slightly in response as his gaze on her sharpened. Aha! Aha aha!!

Though taking a moment to recover, the Princess quickly replaced her smile, but it was clearly forced. No such emotion shone from her eyes. She responded simply and with little detail.

“The King fares well. Thank you for coming, Trisha, and I wish you safe travels on your return home. If you’ll excuse me…”

With a polite nod the Princess moved on, her Knight keeping his gaze on her only a moment more before turning to trail after her. Traysi stayed rooted to the spot, heart still hammering and eyes tracking the Princess as she moved further into the crowd with calculating intensity. She may not know what was wrong with the King, but that encounter had confirmed one thing: he was anything but faring well.

Once she was sure the Princess was well out of sight, Traysi pulled forth her notebook and pen from the pouch at her waist and began to dictate her conversation with the Princess, and all of her observations. Finally, a solid lead!

As she finalized her thoughts, a smooth voice coming from her right interrupted her concentration.

“Did I hear correctly that you hail from Menoat?”

Startled, she turned her head towards the source of the voice to find a handsome, well-dressed gentleman leaning casually against the side of the monument. He was tall, with dark hair slicked back in the latest fashion. He wore a cream colored shirt beneath a navy vest, cinched at the waist with a dark leather belt. An elegantly cut brown jacket with matching navy embroidery marked him a nobleman, but the crest embroidered on the pendant which hung from his neck marked him a Lynnhurst, a member of the most powerful family in the bustling port city of Menoat. Her eyes widened in surprise. Why would a LYNNHURST bother speaking with her? Why would a Lynnnhurst be mingling down with commoners at all?

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Traysi schooled her expression and tucked away her notebook, addressing him politely. She was a bit too familiar with that family for comfort.

“Yes, that’s right. You must be a member of the Lynnhurst family. Lord Freder, son of Coren if I am correct?”

Freder pulled away from the monument in one smooth movement, striding casually towards her.

“Guilty as charged,” He then flashed a charming smile as he reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips, bestowing a feather-light kiss upon her skin. Shock hit her as she felt his lips touch the back of her hand, and an uncomfortable shiver run up her arm as well. “And you are Trisha Smith? I do not recall any family by that name. Are you newly arrived to the city?”

Traysi felt flustered, and could feel heat rising to her cheeks. He was behaving completely out of character—at least so far she knew the Lynnhursts to be. How did one react to such a gesture—and from Lord Freder of all people? Attempting to gather her jumbled thoughts, she forced herself to string together a coherent sentence. It helped that he’d finally released her hand.

“I, uh…” Newly arrived to the city? She’d grown up there… Oh, her fake name! “Yes, yes, I am new to the city. I’ve lived there for… about five months?” That seemed about right, that would give someone enough time to learn about the Lynnhursts but still be relatively unknown to their all-seeing eye, in their gaudy mansion high above the city. Or so she hoped. Would he buy it? Her heart started pounding just a little bit faster.

Without missing a beat he smiled again, displaying a dazzling row of white teeth, “I see. Well, we Lynnhursts must be getting quite notorious if you’re able to recognize me after so short a residence in our beloved city.” He then winked at her as he pulled his arms behind his back. Traysi gulped, hoping he wouldn’t pursue that line of thought. Thankfully, he let it drop.

“Trisha, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we cross paths some time in Menoat. Have a very pleasant evening.” He then pulled forth one arm to wrap around his waist as he bowed low, offering her that same dazzling smile. Turning on his heel, he strode off towards the podium and out of sight.

Traysi let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. It had been effort enough to work up the gall to intentionally provoke the Princess, but she had not been prepared to carry on the lie in front of the very man whose powerful family she’d grown up in the shadow of. In fact, it had been all the rumors and intrigue surrounding the Lynnhursts in her youth that had spurred her interest in journalism. Staring up at their big, dark mansion on the top of the hill, she’d always wondered which rumors were true and which were fiction, and who those people truly were. And now she’d come face-to-face with one of the men which so much mystery surrounded. She shivered. As charming and, dare she say, attractive, as Freder was, there was just something about him that gave her the creeps. He was almost… too polite, too charming. Plus she couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen right through her poorly-fabricated lie.

Feeling rattled by the exchange, Traysi decided it would be best if her next move was to simply take a break and review her notes from the day. Maybe that would help her regain her bearings. Heading for the nearby tree line and working her way around pockets of people still milling about, she pulled off her pack and rested it against the trunk of a tree along the road, settling in beside it. Opening up the pouch at her waste, she pulled forth her pen and notebook and set to work, reading her notes by the dim light cast by the bonfire and nearby lanterns.

The guards had largely been a bust. Save for Barlow none had given any hint that there could be truth to the rumors. The Princess’ reaction had been strong evidence in support, but that still didn’t tell her what, exactly, was wrong with the King. She huffed in frustration, flipping back the pages of her notebook in a fruitless effort to see if anything stood out or connected in some way. Nothing. Leaning her head back against the wood of the tree, she sighed. She wasn’t regretting coming all this way to the ceremony—it was worth it to simply have been a part of such an important event; and admittedly the Princess’ speech was pretty spectacular, she hadn’t lied to her when she’d said as much. But still… she’d hoped to make headway on this rumor, and had hit a dead end right where she thought she’d make a breakthrough.

Traysi redirected her attention out at the crowd. The bonfire in the middle of the road burned brightly and a good number of people still remained, chatting and eating and enjoying each others’ company. She observed, for the first time that day, genuine smiles upon the people’s faces. She smiled as well. The Princess had done good, here. The people needed this.

Her musings were cut short by the sound of rustling off to her left. Startled, she whipped her head about expecting to see a stray boar—they were known to wander close to Castle Town after dusk, and was instead met with the anxious face of one of the castle butlers hiding behind a bush further into the tree line. Spotting her, the man crept forward quietly, one hand holding a finger to his mouth, the other indicating she move towards him. Curiosity piqued, Traysi tucked her notebook into the pouch at her waist and turned to sneak towards him, leaving her pack leaning against the tree. It was dark within the trees, and as she approached him she could barely make out the man’s features. She met him behind the bush, and as he leaned forward, he looked anxiously left and right before speaking barely above a whisper.

“Are you the one who has been asking about the King?”

Traysi’s pulse spiked. A source! She nodded eagerly, confirming in an excited whisper, “Yes, that’s me.”

Upon hearing her response, the man pulled a slip of paper from within his jacket and handed it to her.

“If you want answers…”

Traysi grabbed the paper, attempting to read its contents but found despite her efforts she couldn’t pierce the darkness of the wood. Instead she tucked it into the pouch at her waist, slipping it in between the pages of her notebook. As she raised her head, preparing to inquire as to who the man was, she was met with empty space. The man was, inexplicably, gone. Traysi stood straighter, looking around and squinting into the darkness, but she could see nothing but the dim outline of trees and shrubs. Confounded but too excited by the note to bother chasing after him—she had what she wanted, after all—she headed back towards her pack. Settling in against it once more, she pulled the slip of paper from her pouch and examined it in the dim firelight. In elegant script it read:

“Scull Cave at the entrance to the Breach of Demise. Midnight on the Full Moon.”

Excitement surged through her. It was less than a week away! Folding the paper neatly and returning it to its place within her notebook, Traysi grinned, all traces of weariness gone. Well, she thought triumphantly, tenacity and persistence had won out once again! It seemed she’d get answers after all, she only needed to wait.


	16. The Funeral, Part 4 - Freder's Hunger

**PART 2: AFTER CATASTROPHE  
Chapter 16: The Funeral, Part 4: Freder’s Hunger**

Freder gazed with expertly-concealed contempt at the filthy masses congregating below, shifting and jostling one another like fly larvae in a rotting carcase. They reeked of rot too. Disgusting, low-born animals. Shifting in his cushioned seat, he gazed down at the wooden planks of the platform as it squeaked in response to his movement. Was this thing even stable? While he understood the scarcity of resources and manpower following the Calamity, really, the level the aristocracy had been reduced to!

The nobles’ platform, situated off to the side of the main podium before the gates—though a few inches shorter than the center podium, still rose a foot or two off the ground giving Freder a good view of the crowd and a reasonable vantage of the trumpeters who were now taking up position.

A similar platform to his own sat on the opposite end, filled with the champions of the other races. There was the Gerudo champion, Urbosa—such a fine piece of ass; it was a pity the Gerudo were an accepted and respected race and not the mere harlots and slaves they’d been in eras past—she would have made such a delicious plaything, and been a delight to break. Then there was the new Zora champion, Ordon—a smellier, slimier man he never met; the Goron champion, Daruk—a beefcake of a thing with a mind on par with that of a peanut; and the new Rito champion, Teba—a pompous pigeon who thought all together too highly of himself. He’d be far better off plucked and stuffed. Overall, they were a disappointing lot, though he doubted he would be happier even with a better crop of representatives. Being non-Hylian, they would always be beneath himself.

Beside him his father leaned closer, whispering into his ear as the Princess came to stand out of sight of the crowd, behind the central podium. “Do not forget to make time to greet the Princess after her speech. And do be charming: we must begin cementing favor.” His voice was gruff and demanding, as it always was, and ordered him to do the obvious, as he always did. However, he held his tongue, as usual, instead answering with a polite, “Yes, father.” Satisfied, Coren leaned back into his chair, gaze fixed towards the Princess.

The only other families of pure noble blood left in Hyrule, the Sylvans, the Calaghans, and the Ulbrechts, occupied the banner-draped platform with Freder and his father, sharing similar looks of veiled disgust as they gazed out over the crowd. Dhomas Calaghan and his wife Alinore sat closest, Alinore occupying the seat to his immediate left. Alinore was a fox—young, tall, with long brown hair done up in the latest fashion and wearing a form-fitting gown draped with jewels. Though Dhomas was an old man with well-known performance problems, she’d been eager for his hand when his first wife had died many years back. It never ceased to amaze him what money could do to change the minds and standards of women.

Penn Sylvan and his wife Amani sat furthest away, which was well enough for him. His family and the Sylvans had never gotten on well, and he was not eager to begin a blood fued by allowing himself close proximity to Penn’s wife. Their wild night of passion a year ago when Amani had been visiting family in Menoat had been very nearly discovered, and rumors circled for months after. Though she denied it and though Penn lacked concrete evidence, he had ever since aggressively shielded her from his presence. Inwardly Freder smirked as he caught Amani’s gaze out of the corner of his eye. Oh the things he had gotten her to say and do… if only Penn knew.

Hagie Ulbrecht was somewhat of a mystery to him. While a man of considerable wealth, he had chosen to marry a plain, upper-class commoner with a pathetic dowry. The man owned and maintained his family estate in the Aldor Foothills, but chose instead to live with his wife Ruli and their young daughter Hunnie in a small, boxy house in the nothing village of Tarrey Town. The two had not made the journey with him due to his daughter’s mysterious illness and so Hagie sat alone, gazing out at the crowd with a faraway expression.

As the trumpeters began their call, Freder returned his attention to the central podium. He was looking forward to seeing the Princess. It had been a number of years since he’d last made her acquaintance. Her training had kept her separate from castle life, and as such his few encounters with her over the years had been fleeting. However, even in her youth she had been exceptionally pretty, and he eagerly awaited seeing how that prettiness had been transformed as she entered womanhood. If the rumors held true, she was a beauty.

As the herald finished announcing her, the Princess herself finally stepped up the stairs and onto the podium, long golden hair billowing in the wind. Freder smirked. The rumors did hold true—a beauty indeed. Her black mourning gown highlighted her trim, shapely figure, and she walked forward with an inherent grace only possible of the upper classes. Her eyes were sharp, her lips soft, but perhaps the most beautiful thing about her rested atop her head, glinting gold in the setting sunlight.

As she began to speak, Freder tuned out her words, choosing instead to eye her figure as his mind wandered to other, more important topics.

He’d lost the generalship. His father had broken the news upon his return to their estate in Menoat, and while he had been angered to hear who had stolen it from him—goddesses, a woman! And a Gerudo at that—unlike his father he wasn’t entirely surprised he hadn’t been chosen. In many ways the council was right. He was inexperienced, despite his extensive training. Swordsmanship and military strategy were skills, certainly, but they were not his greatest strengths. That was reserved for politics, as it was in that field his mind was most shrewd, and his experience most extensive.

Being the only male heir to the Lynnhurst line, he was due to inherit his father’s position on the council when he finally passed, and it was a position he was well suited to; but Freder was a man of ambition. The generalship would have been a powerful step up, but now that he’d lost that he’d turned his eye towards… different prospects.

His gaze raked up the Princess’ form, hovering where the bodice of her gown met her hips and accentuated the curvature of her backside. It was always possible that the king could wake, but after almost a month with no change, Freder felt it safe to shift his expectations to the long term. It was only a matter of time before the council got antsy and pushed to crown her. And once she was crowned, a young, inexperienced Queen without a King to share the burden of leadership, well… That was an opportunity just waiting to be exploited, and he was in a prime position to do so. None of the other families of nobility had sons near her age, and while Freder was a bit older at 21, four years was little difference when the alternative was 10 or more. Unless she chose to consider prospects in neighboring Kingdoms, which he strongly doubted given Hyrule’s vulnerable state, he was currently the best and most obvious choice as a suitor. All he needed to do now was lay the groundwork.

The Princess’ speech seemed to be winding to a close, and so Freder reluctantly gave his attention to her once more.

“…honor the place they held within these lands, and the place they will always hold within our hearts.” She gestured with her hand, drawing forth her appointed Knight from the shadows. Freder had never gotten a good look at the Hero, and was surprised by what he saw. He was dressed in full Knight’s armor, modified slightly to reflect his elevated position as the Hylian champion and the wielder of the Master Sword. He was shorter than he’d expected, and though the armor hid it well, really, he was… rather scrawny. And so young! Good heavens, he had defeated the Calamity?!

Two stewards appeared suddenly, each offering a glowing blue paper lantern. The Princess reached for hers first, followed by the Hero. As she held hers just above the wooden railing, the row of soldiers behind her stepped forward, lifting white lanterns of their own.

“May these lanterns represent the souls of our loved ones as they ascend into the silent realm, to rest in peace with the goddesses. Be at peace, friends.”

Behind her the guards released their lanterns to rise slowly into the sky. Job done, they took a step back, resuming their positions in the shadow of the Castle Town wall.

“And may our fallen champions, Master Revali of the Rito, and Princess Mipha of the Zora, be greeted at the gates of the silent realm with honor and dignity by the Goddesses themselves, for it is due in part to their sacrifice that we are able to stand here today.”

Freder noticed with little interest as a tear roll down down her cheek, repressing a snort. Women and their emotions. While he couldn’t see the Hero’s face from this vantage, his eye was caught by the Princess’ sudden shift in demeanor as the Hero glanced at her. Her expression blossomed, transforming from one of stoicism to one of softness and affection.

Freder frowned, struggling to keep his expression from becoming a scowl. Well. It seemed some of the rumors did have a bit of truth to them after all. It could be nothing, just a young girls crush. That certainly seemed to be the nature of the rumors, but even still…

This would not do.

The Princess and the Hero raised their arms, releasing their balloons into the sky, and he felt an unbidden sense of satisfaction as the Hero readily stepped back, retaking his place behind her. The hero’s behavior didn’t seem out of the ordinary, so he assumed it likely to be a one-sided affair. And though her feelings could be a potential complication to his plans, it was no matter; with the right manipulations, he could keep that from ever becoming something more.

The Princess finished her speech with fireworks—such ridiculous pomp for a bunch of dead people—and a funeral rite, then stepped off her podium to head into the crowd, her Knight at her side. Freder watched her go, mulling over how to approach her. Attempting to woo her would be more difficult with the possible object of her affections constantly by her side. Perhaps the best approach was to sew some division? Regardless, tonight he could at least re-introduce himself, and lay the foundation from which to… encourage romantic interest.

Freder stood from his seat, bidding a polite farewell to his father as well as the other nobles who shared their platform, then slowly descended the steps, mulling over his options.

The Princess was surrounded by an eager crowd of peasants near the base of her podium, and though Freder detested mingling with the common folk, he had more to gain by willingly intermixing to encourage an image of approachability and brotherhood. He’d keep this interaction a brief, but charming one, taking the opportunity to flirt and flatter in a more private setting. Pulling his shoulders back, he made to enter the throng of people surrounding her, but they proved an impenetrable barrier. He was then struck by an idea.

In a playful yet commanding tone he spoke loudly over the crowd, “Please, gentle folk, give her Highness some breathing room! You will all get your chance, doubtless the Princess will see to that.”

Startled, the crowd took an unsure step back. As the people around her took notice of his presence, they parted awkwardly to allow him room, as he suspected they would once they deigned to notice one of their betters was in their presence. Finally afforded an opportunity to squeeze between them, he stepped forward in a flourish. She seemed relieved to have a little space. Catching her eye, he reached for her gloved hand, bending low and placing a lingering kiss atop it.

“Your Highness, it is an honor to see you again after so many years.”

As he straightened, he flashed her his most charming smile. Her eyes roved his face in unfamiliarity until her eyes alighted upon his pendant, and recognition shone in her features. Meeting his eyes—hers were a startlingly bright shade of green—she smiled, nodding her head ever so slightly.

“Lord Freder Lynnhurst, it has been many years. I’m delighted you were able to make it up to the castle.”

He flashed his smile once more, inclining his head towards her. He risked a brief glance at her Knight out of the corner of his eye, noting he seemed relatively unmoved by the exchange, though he couldn’t be sure.

“The pleasure is all mine, I would not dare to miss such an important moment in Hyrule’s history. Your speech was truly moving, an account for the history books. I am glad I was here to witness it.”

A faint dusting of pink peppered the Princess’ cheeks at his words, much to his satisfaction, but she did not break in her countenance.

“Thank you, Lord Lynnhurst. You flatter me.”

“I do no such thing, it is well deserved.” It was clear he had captivated her attention, but more than that, he had captivated the attention of the crowd. Perfect. Public pressure was an excellent tool for encouraging a match. Let them all witness, and talk in the aftermath. Before she could interrupt to object once more, he reached for her hand, holding it between both of his. “I understand that this is a difficult time for all of us, but I imagine it must be most difficult for you. As we work towards recovery, if there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to call upon me.”

The Princess glanced briefly at their joined hands before returning her eyes to his and smiling in response, “Thank you, Lord Lynnhurst. Should the need ever arise, I certainly shall.”

“You are most welcome, your Highness. And if you are ever in Menoat, please feel free to visit our humble estate. It is always open to you as a home away from home.”

“You are too kind, Lord Lynnhurst.”

Lifting her hand slowly to his lips once more, he held her gaze as he spoke softly.

“It is my pleasure. Good evening, your Highness.”

Once more a light blush dusted the princess’ cheeks as he placed a feather-light kiss atop her hand. Lowering it, he took a step back and bowed, flashing a devilish smile before turning on his heel and walking away.

Well, that went better than expected. Her Knight didn’t seem bothered by… male competition, though he was an infamously difficult read. Regardless, he hoped the Princess’ feelings were one-sided. If not, that may complicate matters.

Tiring of the smell of dirty peasants, Freder followed the road south-east in search of fresh air. The sky was quickly darkening, the last rays of sunlight all but extinguished. Looking around as he passed the central podium, he could see the guards filing out from behind it. They carried lantern-topped poles, recently lit by the looks of them, clutched in their gloved hands. Passing them, Freder continued on down the road until he could feel the cool breezes blowing in from across the field. Coming to stop halfway between the mass of dirty people and the mass of dirty animals lodged ahead in the temporary stable, he breathed in deep, relishing the cool, clean breeze.

As he contemplated whether to retire early for the night now that he’d seen his primary goal of this dull event accomplished, the sound of raised voices carried to his ear, drawing his attention to the stable not 200 feet ahead of him.

“He is the King! Do you not worry what it might mean for Hyrule if he is not well? The people deserve to know!”

A young woman with a traveling pack upon her back stood before the nearest guard, a notebook and pen in hand and a determined expression upon her face. With frustration and a trace of anger, the guard responded in a clear, deep voice. “Miss, I stand by the crown’s statement, as I have already stated. If you continue to disrupt my post I will have you removed from the ceremony.”

She paused before responding, but spoke too quietly for him to hear from this distance; but he’d already gotten the gist of it. Someone was looking for information about the King’s supposed “recovery”, or lack thereof. Clearly, she didn’t buy the cock-and-bull story the council had sent out in their post-Calamity statement. Hmm. This could prove… useful.

The woman turned from the guard and headed in his direction. Quickly, Freder moved back towards the cover of the thronging peasants, keeping tabs on her out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t sure yet what he wanted to do with this surprise revelation, but shadowing her might provide some context, and some ideas.

As the young woman approached the crowd, Freder was able to get a better look at her. Short and fit, with a light dusting of freckles and brown hair woven into twin braids. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her… Had he perhaps met her before? Shaking off the thought, he instead focused on her movements. She’d moved into line for the buffet, and so while she was facing the opposite direction Freder casually made his way across the road and into the darkness of the tree line. Leaning his shoulder against a trunk with crossed arms, he observed her from afar.

He didn’t know what may have led her to question the council’s official story, or why she would be so avidly looking into it, but were it to become public knowledge that the council had knowingly lied—that the King was comatose with no recovery in sight and the Princess ill-equipped to take his place, it could have some serious consequences for the people’s faith and trust in the monarchy. And while he was in no hurry to overthrow the Hyrules—after the Calamity he fully recognized the necessity of keeping the Princess’ blood within the royal line—chaos and instability did breed opportunity.

The next half hour was a dull one, but once she’d finished her dinner, she made an unexpected and bold move. The Princess had, in her mingling, moved nearer to the young woman, and it was before one of the monuments she approached her. She spoke politely and with respect, but from his vantage Freder could make out the nervous determination in the young woman’s eyes.

“It is an honor to meet you, your Highness. Your speech was truly moving.”

“Thank you. What is your name?”

“My name is Trrr…isha. My name is Trisha… Smith, your Highness.” Freder snorted. Smooth move. Trisha Smith? What kind of bizarre, made-up name was that? Clearly she was intentionally masking her identity. But why?

“…Where do you hail from?”

“I hail from Menoat, your Highness, south of here.”

That caused Freder to lean forward with interest. She was from Menoat? Although he supposed she could be lying about that too. After all he knew just about every family which resided in Menoat, and there were no Smiths, Trisha’s or otherwise. Although…

“That is a long way to travel. Thank you for your attendance, today. It is my hope that through this loss we might all forge new connections.”

From the depths of his mind a memory began to stir. There were no Trisha Smiths in Menoat, but there was a Traysi Siff… She too had brown hair, and was a right pain in the ass who wouldn’t let things go, just as this woman was proving to be. But most importantly, she was a journalist, the founder of that dreadful Rumor Mill, and was just the person who would be interested in the King’s “condition”. He had been the subject of her first major investigation, and though during the course of her queries and research they’d never crossed paths, he was pleased to say he successfully managed to foil her efforts. He hadn’t seen her in years—she’d left Menoat after that, but this woman certainly looked a lot like her.

“If it is not too bold to say, when you shared your experience—of the loss of your mother, I was so moved. Though, I can’t imagine how hard that experience must make it feel for your father to still be recovering from his injuries. How does the King fare, your Highness? I know all of Hyrule wishes him well.”

Inwardly Freder applauded her. That was actually pretty smooth—and gutsy. She’d upped her game over the years it seemed. As expected, the princess showed her hand, and though she tried to cover her slip quickly it was already too late. He could see in ‘Trisha’s’ eyes the triumph of victory.

“The King fares well. Thank you for coming, Trisha, and I wish you safe travels on your return home. If you’ll excuse me…”

As the princess and her Knight moved away, Freder snuck around to the side of the monument, leaning casually against the stone as he observed the young woman pull forth a notebook and begin writing furiously as the Princess and her Knight moved further and further away. This had to be the same Traysi Siff of Menoat. But, just to be sure…

“Did I hear correctly that you hail from Menoat?”

The woman started, but quickly tucked away her notebook, turning to address him politely. Her eyes widened briefly with recognition as they tracked to the pendant around his neck, and though she quickly schooled her expression he knew she recognized more than his house crest. It had to be her.

“Yes, that’s right. You must be a member of the Lynnhurst family. Lord Freder, son of Coren if memory serves?”

Freder pulled away from the monument in one smooth movement, striding casually towards her.

“Guilty as charged,” He then flashed a charming smile as he reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips, bestowing a feather-light kiss upon her skin. As anticipated, she blushed. Women were so easily manipulated. “And you are Trisha Smith? I do not recall any family by that name. Are you newly arrived to the city?”

She was flustered, and he could see the rosy hue of embarrassment rising to her cheeks. Ah, Traysi, how little you’ve learned of espionage after all these years…

“I, uh… Yes, yes I am new to the city. I’ve lived there for… about five months?”

Without missing a beat he smiled again, displaying a dazzling row of white teeth. Not a bad attempt, but he saw right through it. Trisha Smith indeed… 

“I see. Well, we Lynnhursts must be getting to be quite notorious if you’re able to recognize me after so short a residence in our beloved city.” He then winked at her, eliciting another blush.

“Trisha, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we cross paths some time in Menoat. Have a very pleasant evening.” He then bowed low, offering her that same dazzling smile. Turning on his heel, he strode off towards the podium and out of sight.

His thoughts churned as he headed for the Castle Town gate behind the central podium. So, Traysi Siff of the Rumor Mill was once again sticking her nose where it didn’t belong… Perhaps… Yes, perhaps if the Rumor Mill published a breaking news story outing the council’s folly, the Princess and the council could both be easily pushed into a rushed coronation and royal wedding in a haphazard attempt to appease public concerns. And he could easily seed some rumors to aggravate such a situation. Or perhaps simply the threat of such a story might spur them to it. Either way… Freder smiled. Either way, he had a lot more cards to play if Traysi got a hot tip as to the King’s true condition and the problems facing the crown.

He slipped through the gap in the Castle Town gates which were cracked enough to allow castle guests and servants to enter and exit freely. A soldier met him as he passed through to the other side, bowing politely as Freder turned to him, requesting his horse. Time was short, but if he worked quickly he could see it done tonight.

It was time to call upon the services of a certain Sheikah in his employ.


	17. The Funeral, Part 5 - Zelda's Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally posted this story to Fanfiction.net in January, so with this chapter we're now caught up, and up-to-date! I'm taking a publication break before continuing with Part 3 and expect to be back some time in late April or May. I'll see you all then :]

 

 

Moonlight illuminated the rows of gray headstones in cool, silvery light, contrasted by spheres of yellow from the glowing lanterns hanging off posts placed throughout the new wing of the graveyard. It had been over an hour since Zelda bid goodnight to the small group of remaining mourners. It was late—Zelda didn’t know how late, but the heaviness in her frame suggested well past time for her to head back to the castle and retire. Yet despite the exhaustion of her body, her heart was antsy and fretful. Even if she were to try she knew sleep would not yet come. Throughout the ceremony she had, with great effort, maintained a facade of collected calm, smothering the bursts of emotion which had struck her repeatedly throughout the day. Now, her heart was tired and aching, in dire need of release. The cemetery was quiet and deserted; here the Princess of Hyrule could privately mourn.

The young, recently planted trees and flowers gave the space a barren feeling, which Zelda noted wryly matched the emotional tenor behind its creation; and her current mood. Her feet dragged as she walked down the newly laid gravel path toward the courtyard in the center of the wing, where a large boulder featured a carving depicting the battle for Hyrule. The stone formation had been there when they’d began construction, and after some debate with the Goron workers, she’d decided it best to leave it rather than attempt to remove such a large obstacle. It had been one of the workers who’d suggested incorporating it into the cemetery’s design, and Impa who’d suggested the carving.

The gravel path circled the boulder, fringed by wooden benches and bordered by a low wooden fence. Small leafy shrubs were planted in freshly upturned earth on the other side of the fence, nubile and flimsy, spaced apart so as to one day to grow together and be trimmed into a hedge wall. Posts sporting glowing lanterns were buried in the earth next to each bench, while a dozen or so pillar candles had been placed at the base of the stone to illuminate its design and inscription well into the night; though under the bright light of the waxing moon, the candles seemed less practical and more ornamental. Halting her weary strides before the stone formation, she gazed at the inscription, reading it aloud mostly to herself, but still audibly enough for the benefit of her company, standing but a foot behind her.

“Here lie those that fell to the 2nd Great Calamity. May their sacrifices never be forgotten, and may the valor and heroism shown by Hyrule’s champions be always honored.”

Zelda shook her head. She’d wanted the plaque to simply consist of the first line; but by the time she’d made it far enough in her planning to begin work on the graveyard, the council had begun to stick its nose into things. Though well-intentioned, the star-struck counselor from Necluda, Koda Danaphor, had insisted on the second, and his enthusiasm had caught on to much of the rest of the council. She’d been too exhausted to fight over such a small detail, and so had let it drop. Though that didn’t stop her nose wrinkling slightly in displeasure at the self-aggrandizing nature of it.

The carving on the stone didn’t help that matter, either. Depicted in a simple pictogram was an etching of the castle in the distance, a giant boar-like creature in the fore, with a young woman enshrouded in light floating above it and a lone swordsman standing before it. Off to the sides were etchings of each of the divine beasts, with a Goron, Zora, Rito, and Gerudo standing beside them. Impa’s reasoning for the image had been to keep alive the legend of Ganon so that hundreds or thousands of years from now, records would be left for the next Princess and Hero. She couldn’t argue with her logic, as it had been such records that had enabled them to learn from the lessons of the first great Calamity. Besides, the images were simple enough so as not to depict her likeness with any true clarity, but it still made her uncomfortable to be shining such a light on herself during the funeral of others.

Zelda sighed, turning her gaze away from the stone carving and out across the field. Rows upon rows of nearly-identical headstones covered the grassy expanse, their gray stone shining silver in the moonlight. It had been a special kind of unnerving to meet the families of so many of these people today, to put context and circumstance together. But she’d held herself high and put her feelings aside: these people were hurting, and they’d needed her support. As insubstantial as it had seemed to her, simply offering her condolences to many had been enough to bring them to tears, thanking her profusely for her efforts and kindness.

She turned her head slightly over her shoulder, glancing at Link out of the corner of her eye with a touch of sorrow as she spoke.

“I know most of their names by heart, you know,” she said, as she gestured with her hand out across the field at the rows of graves. Returning her gaze to them, she heard Link move to stand beside her. He didn’t respond, but she didn’t mind. It had been somewhat of a rhetorical statement anyway.

“So many people today seemed so grateful just for this, and yet it doesn’t feel like enough. I feel like I’ve cheated them of some greater recompense.”

Silence hung in the air before Link turned his head to look at her.

“You can’t bring them back from the dead.”

She stilled at his words. That was… that was it, wasn’t it? The source of her guilt. Nothing she did to honor their memories in her mind would be enough because what she really wanted was for them to still be alive.

Her voice was soft as she responded, “No. I suppose I can’t.”

After several moments of silent contemplation, Zelda moved on from the stone carving, turning left to continue walking down one of the side paths into the rows of gravestones. Link followed silently behind her. As she passed, she recognized some of the names etched into the stone. Some were those whose voices she’d heard before the Castle Town Gates, others were the deceased friends or family of those she’d met this evening, still others were names she’d become familiar with on the list of the dead as she’d planned this whole affair. One name in particular, a gravestone placed right beside the path, caused her to stop. Turning she approached and knelt before it, fingers brushing the carved letters: Normin Monroe. So this is where he ended…

“Did you know him?” came link’s quiet voice from behind her.

Zelda’s hand lingered over the letters, the pads of her fingers dipping into the grooves.

“I never met him while he was still alive,” she said softly, “He was one of the Castle Town guard. He came from a poor family, and had joined only a few years ago. He was deeply in love with his childhood best friend, a young woman named Sari,” here she paused, closing her eyes against the emotions which welled within her. It wasn’t fair. He hadn’t deserved to die.

“He adored her: the way she laughed, the blue of her eyes, her kind and giving nature. He’d been saving every penny so as to confess his feelings and propose, a man of means capable of supporting her. He never got the chance.”

Zelda slowly stood, taking a step back from the headstone but keeping her eyes locked to his name. A tightness gripped her throat.

“How do you know all that?” Link asked with quiet confusion.

Zelda turned her head towards his, meeting his piercing gaze. She couldn’t stop the tears from welling in her eyes as she answered him in a whisper, the turbulence roiling beneath the surface of her mind stealing her voice.

“They were his dying thoughts. I heard them as we approached the Castle Town gates.”

Link’s eyes softened as he held her gaze. Without a word he turned to her, taking a step forward with arms outstretched and embracing her, wrapping both arms firmly but gently around her shoulders. Zelda froze in surprise, but it was only a moment before the tenderness of his embrace opened the floodgates of her emotions, releasing all that she’d held back that day.

Burying her head into his shoulder, she flung her arms around him, gripping the back of his light blue tabard tightly as sobs rocked through her. Link said nothing as she began to cry in earnest; but he did hold her a little bit tighter. The emotions flooded through her, stronger and faster than she could process. Though counter to the habit developed over the course of her life, she was too exhausted to fight it and simply let it all flow, allowing herself to freely feel the grief lodged in her heart unmolested by her overly-analytical mind. After several minutes, slowly, her tears eased, and her grip on Link’s tabard loosened, but she did not remove herself from his embrace.

Now that her sobs had eased, she could hear Link’s breathing in her ear, strong and steady and full of life. The sound of its rhythm soothed her, and his strong arms warmed her against the encroaching nighttime chill. Though part of her wanted to do anything but, she didn’t want to overstep her bounds; slowly she pulled away, immediately missing his warmth. She looked up into his eyes meeting his warm gaze with a pained smile, gratitude plain on her face. Until he’d embraced her she hadn’t realized that it was exactly what she’d needed.

“Thank you.”

He met her gaze with an intense but unreadable expression, though it wasn’t unkind. Then, he smiled, the angular set of his jaw prominent in the shadowy light. As she released him, she looked to the moon to hide her blush, ignoring the butterflies his smile had elicited within her.

A silent observer, it hung suspended in the sky watching over them as it had all the rulers before her—her father, his father, his father before him… This burden of leadership was so new to her, yet already it felt so heavy. Had they all struggled like this, at least in the beginning? Goddesses help her if it never got any easier. Returning her gaze earthward, she looked once more out over the graveyard, quietly giving voice to her thoughts.

“I’ve only been Regent a short while and already I am beginning to better understand my father; why at times he was so cold.” She sighed heavily, seeing in her mind’s eye the tear-streaked faces of the survivors she’d met that evening, mourning the loss of their loved ones. “Leadership is a heavy burden.”

Link glanced sidelong at her, “It doesn’t need to be a solitary one.”

Zelda caught his eye, smiling softly before averting her gaze. “Thank you. I do feel I’ve been needing frequent reminders of late.”

As she gazed intently at the newly planted flora in thought, he spoke again.

“It does bear saying, though: you lead well.”

Turning, she met his gaze with pleased surprise. She couldn’t help but warm at the comment. “Do you really think so?”

His eyes were kind and tone sincere as he nodded with a small smile on his lips, “You brought hurting people closure, you made their pain feel seen and understood—and, for the most part, you pacified the council. Honestly I don’t know how you managed it all.”

Zelda grimaced, thinking back to her insomnia-fueled work-binge as she averted her gaze once more, in embarrassment. “Well… I suppose you saw how I managed it; which is to say I didn’t, really.”

“You just needed a little help. This—” he gestured with an arm out towards the graveyard, “—was all your doing.”

Zelda looked around her at the lonesome graveyard, its many rows of identical headstones awash in mournful moonlight. “I suppose so.”

Link quirked an eyebrow. “Do you need a few more crying widows blessing your benevolence to believe you did the right thing?”

Despite herself, Zelda laughed. “Alright. Point taken.”

Link grinned smugly, a rare expression. Zelda smiled at the sight. Sighing with newfound contentment, she allowed her thoughts to drift as they continued walking at a slow pace down the path. Though the day had been trying, she was grateful for it to be over. In the days leading up to the funeral, it had consumed her horizon, making her feel trapped in the Calamity’s aftermath and obscuring the future. Now that it was over, she could finally see with clarity what would and could come next; and she was rather looking forward to what was next.

“It will be good to visit Zora’s Domain and Rito Village, even if the reason for our visit is a somber one. I’m ready to travel again. I’ve been cooped up in that room far too long.”

Link’s face fell at the mention of Zora’s Domain, and though he quickly tried to hide it, Zelda had already seen. Despite her own hardships, in the back of her mind she’d worried about how he was handling Mipha’s death. She knew they’d been close, though she didn’t know the specifics of their relationship. Every time Mipha or the Champions or their upcoming visit to Zora’s Domain was mentioned his eyes hardened, even if only slightly; Zelda had been around him long enough now to know that, for him, it was a sign of significant pain. She contemplated for a moment how to inquire about how he was doing, deciding on a casual approach.

She subtly glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she spoke softly. “You know… In all this we have spoken much of my feelings; but… what of yours?”

Link hesitated, looking away. His posture became tense, though he tried to hide it. For a moment Zelda felt a little bit of hurt at his rebuff. Would he still insist on keeping his feelings hidden? How much of her own vulnerability had he been privy to? But she was being unfair; just as she’d needed her time, so too did he need his. She couldn’t push this.

She took a step towards him and turned to face him fully. Gently she reached for his hand, holding it between both of hers. Though his arm was tense, he allowed her touch. She spoke softly as she met his guarded gaze.

“Link?”

He eyed her for a moment, expression unreadable, before slowly bowing his head, the tension in his shoulders easing. When he spoke his voice was rough.

“I’m not—I don’t…” he sighed, running his free hand down his face before taking a breath and continuing, “Death has been a constant in my life, but never have I lost anyone I was close with. And with everything going on… I’m not really sure how I feel. Not yet.”

Zelda stared at the man before her, suddenly seeing him in a different light. Though he stood just as erect and alert as he always did, though he performed his duty just as flawlessly as he always had, the signs of wear were beginning to show as their journey to Zora’s Domain approached. Today had been hard on him, too, and he was doing just as she’d done not long ago: hiding sorrow behind duty, behind the demands being placed on him. Had he too lacked a moment of self-reflection to process these losses?

It was she who initiated this hug, leaning forward to wrap her arms around him, taking him by surprise. He stiffened at her touch, and so she held him tighter, a silent ‘I’m not letting you go.’ After a moment more he relaxed into her embrace, exhaling a long breath. He didn’t speak, but he did lift his arms to wrap around her back, holding her tightly. It was answer enough.

As they separated Link momentarily caught her eye, gratitude shining from within his blue orbs. He then looked up into the sky, eying the moon critically.

“It’s getting late. We should return to the castle before Impa sends a search party.”

Though she knew he was changing the subject, she didn’t argue. He wasn’t ready to talk about it, so she would give him the space he needed to feel ready.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. Tomorrow will be my last day to finalize reconstruction plans with her before our departure, I rather should be as well rested as I can be.”

Turning on her heel, Zelda followed the path back to the central stone carving, giving it a brief rueful glance as she continued towards the cemetery’s entrance. Heading out of the graveyard, the two of them walked side by side in comfortable silence along the road back to Castle Town.

From the rear of the cemetery, in a corner shrouded by darkness, a figure clad in red wearing a white mask painted with a red eye peered out from behind a gravestone, gaze lingering on the pair as they strode away, before disappearing in a puff of smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF PART 2.


	18. On The Road Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I wish I could say this will mark the start of regular updates, I’m not that optimistic. But I at least wanted to get the ball rolling again. I'm not entirely sure when the next chapter will be out. Hopefully in October? We'll see. In any case, enjoy!

 “Princess, you must consider your safety!”  
  
“Impa, I am considering my safety—”  
  
“You are now the last of your line, if something should happen to you—”  
  
“—Link will be there to protect me. He is the wielder of evil’s bane, the most accomplished swordsman in all of Hyrule! He has protected me faithfully and skillfully for the past year, even when I made every effort to impede him.”  
  
“I can understand refusing the council’s recommendation of a full entourage, but just three additional guards is hardly a burden worth putting up all this fuss ov—”  
  
“Impa!”  
  
Zelda’s voice echoed through her chamber, the volume of her voice evidence to the degree of her displeasure. The councilor’s complaints ceased at the outburst, and the Princess took a deep, rattling breath, struggling to keep her frustration from getting the better of her. The trip to Zora’s Domain and Rito Village was her only chance in the foreseeable future to get space from the suffocating strictures and stresses burdening her within the castle walls; and now Impa was trying to force her to drag more of the castle along with her? No, she wouldn’t have it. She may not yet have the courage to argue so fiercely against any other council member, but she’d known Impa since she was but a girl—she would hold her ground.  
  
Zelda’s voice was calmer when she continued, both more pleading and more final. If Impa would not accept a simple refusal, perhaps she would yield to reason.  
  
“Impa, we can ill-afford to spare the men. Their time would be better spent guarding the refugee camp from looters, or patrolling the roads. There are no credible threats to my safety, and if it comes to your attention that there is a standing order for my head I will reconsider; but for now I see no reason why I need any further protection.”  
  
“Councilor Safula has reports that suggest there may be increased Yiga activities in the Gerudo Highlands—”  
  
“Suggests! May be! Impa, I have read through all the same reports you have. There is no reasonable evidence to suggest that I may be in danger, especially traveling in the opposite direction.”  
  
Impa looked sour, but refrained from arguing further. When she finally spoke she did so carefully, weighing her words as she held the Princess’ gaze.  
  
“You are Regent and so have final say in these matters. If that is your wish, so shall it be. But both as your adviser and friend, I must ask: is there any other reason you might wish to travel without escort—alone, with Master Link?”  
  
She stared at the Sheikah in confusion a moment before the unspoken implication hit her, and her heart skipped a nervous beat. No, she couldn’t be implying…  
  
“I—What?”  
  
“There have been… rumors, circulating in the castle. While I tend not to give the servant’s chatter much consideration, given your ardent refusal I feel I must ask: Is there any other reason you might wish to travel alone with him?”  
  
Silence rang through the chamber. Zelda’s mind raced as it struggled to grasp the entirety Impa’s not-so-subtle suggestion. Really! They were just… friends! Granted, she knew that someone in her position being so friendly with someone in his was… frowned upon, but it was hardly scandalous. This was absolutely ridiculous—nothing more than idle gossip of the worst sort…  
  
But as her mind ran through all the reasons why Impa ought to have no reason to doubt the platonic nature of their relationship, she began to realize that perhaps… perhaps she had been a tad more familiar than even she intended. Now that she thought on it, there had certainly been… moments… but did it really matter if none had seen? The scant few times she had been a bit more friendly with him they had always been alone. Yet even still there was gossip amongst the servants—but was that a result of her actions or their overactive imaginations? She wasn’t some young Castletown maiden fawning over the neighborhood shop boy… was she?  
  
She wanted to get away from castle life, that much was very true; but when she thought of the joy traveling through Hyrule brought her, she was suddenly struck with how much the dynamic of just the two of them—just her and Link—had become a part of that joy. It simply didn’t hold the same appeal with a cadre of guards. Was there some other reason she wanted so desperately to travel without additional company? She… suddenly wasn’t sure.  
  
With a start Zelda realized how long she had been silent. Scrambling to organize her thoughts and keep her expression neutral, she hurriedly strung together a reasoned defense of her actions, ignoring the heat creeping up her cheeks as she spoke with more confidence than she felt.  
  
“Link… Link has proved himself a worthy protector, and has been a valued support since I became Regent. There… have been few in the castle I feel I can speak openly with about… my concerns, and the difficulties of my new position. He has been a kind and patient friend. Aside from that, I can assure you there is no other reason why I might wish to travel with only him.”  
  
Impa’s stern expression melted as her words hit her, revealing a pained and regretful countenance underneath. Zelda started, confusion and surprise overtaking her at her advisor’s unexpected reaction. Impa looked away, her hands balling into fists.  
  
“Princess, I… I am so sorry you have felt that way. I should have known…” she sighed, running a hand down her face in an uncharacteristic expression of weariness. “I’m sorry. I know that much has been thrust upon you, and you have had few to share that burden with. I should have been there more for you over the past month…”  
  
Zelda felt her anger dissipate, the topic of their conversation momentarily forgotten. The last thing she had wanted to do was suggest Impa had been anything other than a blessing. She reached a hand across her desk to rest it upon the older woman’s arm as she looked into her eyes sympathetically.  
  
“Impa, I know you have been busy,” she said softly, pausing briefly as she thought. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she quickly gathered her courage and continued.  
  
“I… came upon your office this morning while you were out,” she admitted sheepishly. Impa looked embarrassed, glancing guiltily to Zelda before once more looking away.  
  
Impa was a neat, orderly, precise woman, and the state of her office had always reflected that. To Zelda, it represented the pinnacle of organization, the kind which she always longed to achieve. But when she walked into the usually pristine circular office that morning, it had been an absolute disaster. Papers were strewn everywhere, stacks of haphazard documents lying on the floor, and half-eaten rice balls drying in the stale air.  
  
“I didn’t realize it until I saw, but you have been taking on additional tasks to lighten my burden, haven’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, but by Impa’s lack of denial she felt confirmed in her assessment. Zelda softened, smiling faintly at the older woman, her heart aching both with sympathy and appreciation. “Thank you, Impa. I don’t want that to be a permanent state of affairs, but I appreciate the extra help. It is because of you I have had the time to think and talk to anyone at all.”  
  
Impa glanced up at her, a small, fond smile tugging at her lips. “I am here for you, Zelda. I want you to know that.”  
  
Zelda’s smile grew. “I know.” The Princess held her gaze a moment longer, silently communicating her gratitude before releasing her. She then leaned back in her chair, eying the Sheikah thoughtfully a moment before sighing.  
  
“And… with regards to our prior subject… I suppose you’re right. It would be a safer journey with additional guards.”  
  
Impa perked up, not-so-subtly suppressing a grin; and though she said nothing in response to the Princess’ concession, she couldn’t hide the triumph in her eyes.  
  
“However—” Zelda added sternly, “I will take only 1 additional guard, and I will choose who.”  
  
Impa only nodded in acquiescence. “That is acceptable. I am glad you have agreed to at least some extra security. I’m sorry if I distressed you on the matter, I just worry for your safety.”  
  
“I appreciate your concern, Impa, I do; but I will be alright.”  
  
Impa gathered her papers from the desk, securing them within the confines of her notebook with a snap. “I will finalize arrangements with the stables for three, then.” She looked up, smiling kindly as she stood and tucked the notebook under her arm. “I do hope you have an enjoyable trip, Princess—I know the castle has been a den of chaos. A change of scenery will be good for you.” With a final nod, she turned for the door. “Good evening, Princess.”  
  
“Good evening, Impa.”  
  
As the door closed behind her adviser Zelda stood from her wooden desk chair, turning and walking toward the plush twin arm chairs in the corner of the room and sitting heavily into one. Though the sun had barely set, already she felt exhausted. She had entertained officials and organizers all day in preparation for her departure tomorrow morning, and though the preparations for her diplomatic visits to Zora’s Domain and Rito Village had largely been completed as she planned the funeral, there seemed to be countless loose ends which only made their appearance at the last possible moment. Yet despite the business of the day centering on finalizing the preparations for her almost two-week long journey, it was not those stresses which weighed on her now—no; it was the unexpected diversion in her and Impa’s conversation that dominated her thoughts.  
  
Did she… were her feelings for Link more than just friendship? She’d been so eager to spend time with him, and had been surprised by how much she’d missed him when he got the rare shift off to rest or relax in his own chambers. She had given such feelings little thought until now, assuming them to be merely a desire to disengage from affairs of the Kingdom. Could she possibly have… other motivations?  
  
And what of the gossip Impa had eluded to? Gossip within the castle about her and Link certainly wasn’t new, but she couldn’t help but wonder at the nature of what was being said. Yet again, the servants did always manage to circulate the most outrageous rumors—perhaps she shouldn’t give it any credence… She certainly had enough to be worrying about as it was.  
  
As her eyes roamed absently, she stole a moment to glance out the small windows of her chamber. The last of the sun’s rays were fading, sucking the light from the room and throwing what little of the landscape she could see into shadow. Wearily standing and making her way to her desk, she quickly lit the taper candle which sat upon it, throwing into sharp relief the pile of papers sitting upon its surface. She sighed, glaring at the stack before deciding to sit down. There were still a good number of documents needing her signature before her departure. Thoughts of… other things, could wait.  
  
  
-:-:-:-  
  
  
  
“Is this stallion to your liking, your Highness?”  
  
Zelda, Barlow, and Link rode side-by-side on the road east out of Castle Town, the Princess riding between them. Zelda’s new horse, a gray stallion named Ponli, was indeed proving a calm and steady steed. With every step the royal saddle and bridle jangled with the light clattering of metal, and though normally she didn’t mind, paired with Barlow’s incessant chattering the combination of noises was beginning to grate on her. She was barely awake—the sun had only just risen over the dueling peaks, and hardly in a state to exchange mindless pleasantries. She just wanted to enjoy the cool morning air, the light of the rising sun… Were it just she and Link he would understand without her needing to say a word.  
  
Though it had only been little over a half hour since departing the castle stables, Zelda was already regretting her choice of guard; or, perhaps, simply agreeing to an additional guard in the first place.  
  
Sitting rigidly with her shoulders back, she kept her gaze fixed ahead as she answered politely, masking her irritation, “Yes, thank you Barlow.”  
  
“That’s wonderful to hear, your Highness. I chose Ponli myself. One must be quite choosy with their steed, especially for longer journeys such as this. Why I remember once when I escorted your late mother, the Queen, on a vacation to Lurelin…”  
  
Zelda tuned him out, holding herself still as she slowly closed her eyes, subtly taking a deep breath. Her late mother was hardly what she wanted to think about while on her way to offer condolences for the deaths of her friends. When she opened them again, she caught sight of Link giving her a side-long glance.  
  
“…and Dorian agreed wholeheartedly with me, which is why I chose Ponli for you, your Highness. It’s a delight to know I chose well!”  
  
Zelda turned, giving him a forced smile.  
  
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”  
  
He smiled gaily in response, turning his attention back to the road. The sound of running water could be heard over the chirping of birds as they approached the Orsedd Bridge, and much to her displeasure, Barlow continued speaking.  
  
“Anything for you, your Highness! If I may speak freely, I’m just grateful to be alive and able to continue serving. If it weren’t for you and Master Link, I don’t know where I’d be right now! All of us in that guard tower were sure we were about to meet our end before you arrived; and then when you—”  
  
Zelda’s hands tightened on the reins as she forced her rising frustration back. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate Barlow’s efforts—he was a good soldier, one of the veterans of the Royal Guard who’d long-since proved his loyalty and worth. She had no doubt that if it ever came to it, he would lay down his life for her without hesitation. She just… wasn’t in the mood for conversation, especially this early—and boy did Barlow like to converse.  
  
“…and when that beast came smashing through the city wall—Dear Din, I’ve never been more scared! But then Master Link came charging through the gate—”  
  
Goddesses, it was going to be a long day.

  
  
-:-:-:-  
  
  
They neared Inogo Bridge an hour before sunset. As the road split, Link directed them along the left fork, approaching the Soh Kofi shrine from the North. Zelda guided her horse to the vine-wrapped wooden horse shed before dismounting in the sparse grass, feeling her stiff knees complain as she landed forcefully upon the ground. Guiding Ponli beneath the structure, she wrapped his reins loosely around a wooden post, relishing in the tranquility of the rushing water of the Zora river and chirping birdsong. It was, of course, short-lived.  
  
“Ah, what a view, your Highness!” exclaimed Barlow as he took in the sight afforded by the elevated road above the shrine. The Inogo bridge towers were visible below the cliff atop which the shrine was nestled, glowing blue against the setting sun’s golden rays. The zig-zagging path into Zora’s domain stretched before them, cut by the turbulent Zora river. The distinct rocky grey-blue mountains which enshrouded the Domain rose high in the distance, and it was towards these mountains the sun slowly lowered. She smiled. Link always chose good places to camp.  
  
Link came to stand beside her, his own horse secured. She eyed him sidelong, and he looked… unnervingly impassive—calm waters that were just a little too still. Turning reluctantly from the sight, Zelda refocused on the imminent loss of sunlight.  
  
“Well, let’s divide chores for the evening, shall we? Barlow, I thought perhaps you could catch us dinner.” She gestured towards the river below, “I’ve heard you’re quite the accomplished angler, and I thought we might have grilled Bass, if you’d be willing? I can take care of camp—and Link, do you think you could make a fire?”  
  
Silently, Link nodded. Barlow mimicked the action with greater enthusiasm.  
  
“Absolutely, your Highness! I even brought my best pole, just in case there was such an opportunity.” Making for his horse with eagerness, he continued speaking with a grin, “Oh, just you wait till you try my personal Grilled Bass recipe! Though it doesn’t quite compare to Chef Pimm’s, it’s still pretty fine fare out here in the woods.” With deft hands, Barlow pulled a capped tube and wicker basket from the side of his horse, along with his sword and shield. Turning, he saluted the Princess.  
  
“Back in no time, your Highness!”  
  
As Barlow disappeared through the trees and towards the road behind them, Zelda let out an unsubtle sigh, relishing in the sudden quiet which had enveloped them.  
  
“Diplomatically done.”  
  
Link’s quiet voice was teasing as she turned to gaze at him questioningly. He hadn’t spoken much during their journey—he tended not to when in public as her appointed knight, and it was comforting to hear his light tone. She responded unapologetically, yet humor danced in her eyes.  
  
“I just want a few minutes peace; and besides, bass does sound good for dinner.”  
  
Link smiled in amusement. “If I might ask, why did you choose Barlow? Did you not know of his reputation? I would have recommended Dorian or Ivarson if you wanted someone less… chatty.”  
  
Zelda glance down the road where Barlow had disappeared around the bend before turning her gaze back to Link with chagrin. “No, I didn’t. I just chose the most qualified available knight on the roster.”  
  
Link chuckled as he rifled through the packs on Epona. A light smile danced on his lips, and Zelda felt her heart lighten just a little at the sight. As he turned, eyes sweeping the sight of the Zora river, the slight curve to his lips quickly fell and the light humor which had moments ago sparkled in his eyes faded into nothingness. Turning his face from her view, Link quietly cleared his throat. “I’ll go get some wood for a fire.” Then, without further comment, he headed for the copse of trees along the ridge several dozen feet downhill from the shed. Zelda felt her spirits fall as she gazed after him, her hands still where they rested on Ponli’s saddle. She sighed softly, then set about unstrapping her sleeping roll.  
  
Ten minutes later Zelda and Link sat on a log beside a roaring fire with three sleeping mats and a small pile of supplies laid out around it. The sun had just begun to lower behind the mountains as Zelda once more glanced side-long at her knight. Outwardly he seemed calm, sitting with his forearms on his knees, hands clasped between them as he gazed into the flames; and though at the moment she couldn’t point to anything specific in his demeanor that might suggest distress, she couldn’t shake the memory of the hollowness in his eyes as he set off to gather firewood.  
  
“Rupee for your thoughts?” she asked softly.  
  
He turned his head towards her, gaze unreadable as he observed her. He didn’t answer right away, and as the silence stretched on she began to wonder if perhaps this was too public a setting for him to feel comfortable opening up to her. After all, Barlow could return any minute—maybe she shouldn’t have said anything…  
  
Finally he turned from her to gaze back at the fire, speaking lowly, “The last time I was in Zora’s Domain, she—”  
  
Link’s voice wavered and he stopped, shutting his eyes gently against the heat of the flames. Crickets were beginning their evening serenade, harmonizing with the rush of water from the Zora River below and filling the stark silence which had suddenly settled between them.  
  
Zelda felt her heart lurch. At least in front of her Link hadn’t expressed much grief at the loss of their friends and champions. Part of her felt guilty, that maybe her overwhelming tide of pain and sorrow had dominated his attention, giving him no opportunity to feel his own. Another part of her wondered if maybe Link simply wasn’t the type to process grief that way. And yet…  
  
Quietly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she gazed intently at him, she broke the stillness, her soft voice carrying across the space between them.  
  
“She…?”  
  
Link breathed quietly, opening his eyes once more to continue staring into the flickering light of the fire. His gaze was faraway as he spoke.  
  
“I got injured clearing out a Lynel atop Mount Poloymus. When we got back to Vah Ruta, she healed me—just like she always did.” A small smile graced his lips. “That’s how we first met—when we were kids. My father and a group of knights brought me to the Domain to train. I must have been about four. She and the rest of the royal family greeted us. I was covered in bruises, and… she healed me. I’d never seen healing magic before.” He stilled, eyes softening as his mind lingered on the memory.  
  
“She said… she hoped that when everything was over—once the Calamity was defeated, we could go back to how we were when we were young; that maybe we could spend some time together.” He gazed a moment at the flames before closing his eyes, shaking his head slightly as though to rid himself of a pesky thought. Perhaps he was.  
  
Zelda bit the inside of her cheek. The words he left unspoken—that they’d now never get the chance—didn’t need saying. She knew despite her eagerness to get out of the castle that this trip would be hard for her, and she had done what she could to prepare for that. She’d brought a healthy supply of Link’s tea, a bottle of sleeping draught, books to occupy her mind, and her diary to work out her thoughts. Though she suspected it would be difficult for Link as well, he hadn’t been very forthcoming about his own feelings on the subject—as was his right, if he so chose. Had her own emotions not decided to make themselves known with or without her consent she may well have kept them to herself. Despite that, though, she did want to know what occupied his heart and mind. His support had been instrumental in getting her through the first few weeks of her unexpected rule, and she wanted to be able to offer that same help to him. She wanted to make him feel better, to see that soft smile just a little bit more often. Somehow.  
  
“Link…” she began, turning towards him slowly and reaching a tentative hand out to him. He let her grasp his hands where they hung, clasped, between his knees, without complaint. He didn’t look at her, however, simply continued to stare into the fire. Feeling emboldened, Zelda reached forward with her other hand to gently turn his face towards hers.  
  
“Link…”  
  
He allowed her to maneuver him unimpeded, and after a moment finally brought his eyes up to meet hers. Outwardly they seemed blank, but the deeper she looked, the more she could see a lingering sorrow hidden behind them. Her heart twisted. How much had he pushed away?  
  
“I am so sorry, Link; and moreso, I’m sorry you have to be doing this with me.” Though the familiar pangs of guilt over Mipha’s death hit her, she set the feeling aside. This wasn’t about her—it was about him. “I don’t know what memories this trip will stir, or how deep your own grief must run. Just promise me… if it becomes too much—when you need someone, whatever it is; come find me. I don’t know what I would have done had you not been there for me these past several weeks. I want to be there for you, too.”  
  
Her heart quickened in her chest as her words hung in the air between them. Link remained silent, but as the seconds dragged on his eyes began to soften. After a moment, Zelda felt his clasped hands shift beneath her fingers, and he brought his left to rest atop her right, his other below it in a tender hold. A ghost of a smile alighted upon his lips and he gazed steadily into her eyes. Zelda felt a smile of her own bloom, and her heart began to thud in her chest. She was suddenly acutely aware of how close they were to each other, and of every place their bodies touched: her palm on his campfire-warmed cheek, his hands clasping hers…  
  
Unbidden, a warmth rose to her cheeks—a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the fire.  
  
  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-  
  
  
Barlow grinned at the prize which sat limp in his creel—or technically, prizes, as he walked up the road towards camp. Oh, the Princess would be most pleased! It had taken a little while to find a nice quiet corner of the river where the Bass pooled to feast on the evening insects, but after some hiking he’d found the perfect little alcove—and caught a couple whoppers! They’d be in for a real treat tonight.  
  
He turned off the road, the horses visible at the top of the incline in the increasingly dim light of dusk. Making for his own steed, he strapped his pole securely to the saddle bags when the faint murmur of conversation reached his ears. Moving towards the edge of the small cliff, he pulled his creel from his waist ready to present his catch to a waiting audience—when he stopped dead in his tracks, mouth open mid-greeting. Sitting side-by-side on a log before the fire were the Princess and the Hero, in a… startlingly intimate position. The Princess’ hand was on the Hero’s cheek as he gazed intently into her eyes, holding her hand between both of his.  
  
With nervous footsteps and a jittery pulse, Barlow slowly—silently—backed away, unable to tear his eyes from the sight until they disappeared from view behind the cliff edge. His heart pounded and his mind whirled with questions. Was there something going on between the Princess and the Hero? It had looked… well, it had looked like they were about to kiss. By all accounts otherwise they were merely politely friendly. Were they… were they seeing each other in secret? Goddesses, a Royal Guard consorting in such a way with a member of the Royal family! It was scandalous! An outrage! It was— Suddenly, Barlow’s eyes bulged. Had they been intimate with each other?  
  
Forcefully Barlow shook his head, accidentally backing up into a tree with a soft thump. Goddesses, man, get your mind out of the gutter!  
  
But… if they had, and if it were ever discovered… Barlow gulped, feeling his palms sweat. He liked Link; in fact he admired him greatly, even if the boy was 25 years his junior. He didn’t deserve a decade or more of imprisonment. Barlow straightened himself, turning back towards his horse and attempting to shake off his nervous energy. Whatever was going on between them, it wasn’t his business. He didn’t see anything, no siree. Didn’t see nothing at all. Forcing all his nervous energy into his legs, he turned and high-tailed it back to the horse shed.  
  
As he began to mindlessly fiddle with the straps of his horse’s saddle bags, searching halfheartedly for his spices, he heard a rustling downhill. Startled, he turned, seeing Link hike up the incline, and jumped in surprise. As Link caught sight of him in the fading light, he quirked an eyebrow in question, heading towards his own horse.  
  
“Oh, Master Link! You startled me,” he stuttered, nervously fidgeting as anxious energy flooding him with renewed vigor. He hadn’t been seen… right? “I—I just got back from the river. Caught a couple good ones!” He chose this as the opportunity to awkwardly lift his creel, giving it a halfhearted shake. “Dinner tonight will be delicious, yes sir! I’ll just gather up my spices here…” he returned to digging through his saddle bags, fingers passing over his spice bottle several times in his nervousness before he was able to focus enough to extract it. When he returned an anxious eye towards Link, he noticed the boy was standing in silent wait by the path down the slope to the shrine, a small wooden block and knife in his hands.  
  
Smiling wanly, he held up his spice bottle and gently shook it, “Ah, finally found it.”  
  
Link eyed him impassively. “I’m sure the Princess is looking forward to it.”  
  
Shaking off the last of his nerves, Barlow headed towards Link, following him down the path to the campsite. He was probably being silly, it was unlikely they’d seen him. Still… he’d need to watch himself. This trip just became a lot more… complicated.


	19. Questions in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Seems I'm doing a pretty okay job so far maintaining monthly updates. I made a notice on Tumblr, but for those who don't follow me there I will be illustrating each chapter of LIATOC. It doesn't show up if you're reading in the app, but formats beautifully on a desktop, as well as in reading mode on mobile browsers--so give it a looksie! Looking forward to hearing what you think! (of the chapter and the illustrations ^^)

 

It was early evening when the group arrived at the entrance to Zora’s Domain. It had taken longer than expected to reach the city due to bokoblins, lizalfos, and moblins hiding out along the winding path through the mountains; though Link had, in short order, demonstrated the needlessness of Barlow’s accompaniment in how quickly and efficiently he dispatched the monsters—without Barlow’s aid.

As the group crossed the first bridge into the Domain proper, Zelda slowed Ponli’s gait upon seeing the group of Zora standing in wait on the center island. An older green-skinned Zora stepped forward, bowing only slightly; though his posture indicated respectable formality, his narrowed eyes, which remained locked on the Princess, showed instead halfheartedly-veiled contempt.

“Welcome, Princess, to Zora’s Domain. I am Muzu, the King’s adviser.”

Though weary from the day’s travel and wary of her rather unfriendly host, Zelda forced a smile anyway, hastily donning a facade of polite formality.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Muzu. Though I’m sure you’ve already met, this is my Knight, Link,” she gestured to her left where Link sat astride Epona, “And one of my Guards for this journey, Barlow,” To her right, Barlow nodded.

“Pleasure, sir!”

Muzu smiled greenly before gesturing to the black-skinned Zora beside him with an impatient flick of the wrist.

“Master Oran will take care of your horses. If you’d care to follow me, I will lead you to your quarters.”

Zelda neatly dismounted, handing off Ponli’s reigns to a shy but smiling Oran with a quiet “Thank you.” Following behind Muzu, the group began the long walk up the promenade leading into the heart of the Domain, the massive fish tail sculpture towering above them and shadowing their walk along the bridge.

Muzu kept up an irritatingly imperious monotone about the Domain’s history as they neared the central plaza—all things Zelda had learned long ago over the course of her schooling; and so she gave only halfhearted attention, her mind occupied by other matters—namely the rapidly approaching meeting with King Dorephan.

“The city is one giant sculpture,” Muzu droned proudly, “All carved out of the proto-luminous stone which makes up the bulk of the Domain. Hundreds of years ago a—”

“Welcome to Zora’s Domain, travelers! Don’t forget to stop in at the Seabed Inn for a good nights rest on our luxury water beds; or sample some of our fine selection of premium wines and spiri—”  
  
Muzu turned, an ugly scowl covering his features as he walked over to a blue-skinned Zora waving at their party from the doorway of the nearby Inn. As soon as the Zora caught sight of Muzu’s expression, his smile instantly faded and he took a halting step back.

“Master Kayden, please! You will withhold your sales pitch in the presence of the Princess! And for the Godess’ sake, show some respect!”

Kayden looked properly chastised as he turned his attention to the rest of the group and realized a bit too late all of whom were present. Hurriedly, he bowed his head towards the Princess.

“Your Highness, Master Link, I sincerely apologize—I did not realize you were there. Welcome to Zora’s Domain. And…” The Zora looked up, his chagrin momentarily fading as he nodded to Barlow. “It’s good to see you again, Barlow. It’s been too long.”

Zelda glanced side-long at Barlow who likewise looked enthused to see the Zora; yet, as expected of a knight of his standing, he stalwartly maintained a formal posture and expression as he nodded politely to the Zora in response.

“You as well.”

Zelda returned her attention to Kayden and smiled warmly.

“Thank you, Master Kayden. It is always a pleasure to visit the Domain, even under such circumstances. And please, do not worry, I take no offense.” Gesturing with curiosity towards Barlow, she inquired, “Do you know my guard?”

Muzu looked sour at her easy dismissal, but did not speak. Kayden nodded in response, smiling a little more broadly as he spoke.

“Yes, your Highness—we’re old friends. Barlow used to be stationed here during the Electric Keese Crisis a decade or so ago. Saved my life quite a few times.”

Barlow nodded awkwardly, the tips of his ears a bit pink at the praise; yet Zelda noted the hint of a boyish grin hiding behind his eyes. Zelda glanced between the two, surprised by how touched she felt at the brief exchange. Perhaps it was simply the rawness of Link’s words the night prior beside the fire, but she felt inexpressibly distraught at the prospect of two friends being reunited after so long, denied an opportunity to spend time together because of one’s duty. It rang too painfully of the tragedy Link was now suffering—of the time he didn’t get to spend with Mipha before she died. Did things always have to turn out this way?

Suddenly, Zelda stilled. They… didn’t. At least not here, not this time. Barlow was under her command—and truthfully, she had no need for him tonight. All she had planned was to settle into the Royal quarters and turn in early. Between the Zora guards stationed throughout the Domain and Link’s ready presence in the guard’s quarters above her own, she would be quite well protected; there was no pressing need for Barlow to remain on duty… She smiled.

“Barlow, take the night off,” she announced, turning to him. “You can catch up if you would like. There is no reason our visit must be a solely mournful affair, and now that we are in the safety of the Domain Link is more than sufficient guard for the evening. You may return to duty by sunrise.”

Barlow turned to her in surprise, uncertain but clearly interested in the prospect.

“Are… are you certain your Highness? There will be other opportunities to catch up with old friends—your safety comes first.”

“Yes, I am certain,” she replied, smiling, “Please, take some time for yourself while we have the opportunity.”

Barlow smiled broadly, bowing before her.

“Thank you, your Highness. I am extremely grateful. I will escort you to your chambers before departing.”

Muzu looked disdainful as he glanced between Barlow and Kayden, but said nothing on the matter. Turning back to her and Link, his face melted once again into a suspiciously blank slate as he gestured ahead of them towards the bridge leading to the royal quarters. It was a lone two-story building on the western side of the Domain, built atop a solitary spire between the outer ring of the Domain and the central plaza. It had been built many decades prior as relations between the Zora and other races of Hyrule grew stronger and stronger, and foreign leaders came to visit more frequently. It had been a while since Zelda had last stayed there—when she’d come to formally accept Mipha’s answer regarding Vah Ruta. A frown tugged at her lips. Despite the happiness she felt at being able to offer this small kindness to Barlow and Kayden, the memory unsettled her.

“Shall we, your Highness?”

Shaking her head to rid herself of that train of thought, she straightened, offering a polite smile as she followed after.

“Yes, of course. Please lead on, Master Muzu.”

-:-:-:-

 Zelda settled onto the cushioned bench against the wall beneath the open-air windows facing the bridge, and subsequently, the heart of the Domain. The large tail which rose high above the central plaza glowed brightly in the encroaching evening twilight as she opened the book she had pulled from her pack: “The History of the Royal Family of Hyrule, Volume I”. She had pulled it from the Royal Library which had, much to her joy and relief, been relatively undamaged by the Calamity, prior to their departure. She hoped that in the spare time she had over the course of their journey she might be able to uncover some information about the nature of the power which ran through the female line. Her experiences over the past few weeks proved that there was far more to this sealing power than simply the ability to banish Ganon, and she was determined to figure out all she was truly capable of.

And… reading helped her cope.

She had been so eager to leave the castle that she hadn’t quite processed, at least emotionally, what she was leaving the castle to do; and now that she was here the emotional aftershocks of the calamity she had been learning to manage were roiling once more.

But it was okay… it was okay, she could deal with this. Link had helped her learn to deal with this. Closing her eyes, she cleared her mind and breathed deeply, exhaling slowly and focusing on the feeling of breath departing her lungs before refilling them with the crisp, fresh air of the watery domain.

Though it had been hard, the funeral had helped. It felt good, right, for the losses to be recognized. Despite the rather callous disregard of some on the council, she had nonetheless been able to honor them as they deserved to be honored. Though she had allowed herself no tears that day, at least not publicly, she had grieved with her subjects as she walked amongst them. Though deep in her heart a dark, vicious part of herself whispered that it was her fault—that she deserved these people’s hatred—their kindness and gratitude had acted as a soothing balm to her doubt and despair. She’d felt kinship with them; had felt less alone in her grief.

Yes, Mipha was gone. Yes, she still felt responsibility for her death. But… no amount of guilt or regret would change what had happened. There was only acceptance, only trying to carry on with respect for her sacrifice. There was still much to do for those who had survived, and Zelda knew Mipha would not want her to abandon those who still lived to wallow in the memory of those who did not. Zelda would grieve her friend forevermore, just as she did her mother—but she would not let it consume her.

Opening her eyes, Zelda felt the cool track of a tear upon her face. Lifting a shaky hand she wiped it away, taking another deep breath. It was okay.

Opening the tome to the location of her bookmark, Zelda turned her attention to the text. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she might be able to find some leads before bed.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 Link leaned against the railing of the balcony which circled the upper level of the Royal Quarters—the balcony of the guards’ chamber, where it overlooked the whole of the Domain. It had been created originally, he knew, for the Royal Family’s personal guards to keep watch for any potential intruders; but Link found it also served as a bittersweet vista of the sprawling Zora city. What had, to him, once been a beautiful and peaceful place filled with nostalgia for his youth, was now instead a living monument to childhood memories newly painted with the ocher of grief.

He could see where he and Mipha had played tag in the central square, where they had practiced diving from the waterfalls cascading off the Domain’s walkways; he could see Kayden’s Inn, where they had terrorized guests stopping in for a meal. Memories which had once been joyful and precious now turned bitter and rancid in his heart.

Unbidden, Link felt a welling of emotion within him, white-hot and burning—a feeling which startled him with its severity. Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he quickly pushed it away, shoving it in a box and locking the lid. He knew what it was; it had been creeping up on him with every step Epona took along the winding road into the Domain. Even if he and Mipha had become somewhat more distant after the sword chose him, he had never ceased to think of her, to care for her. And now… she was…

Link pushed himself away from the railing, turning sharply from the amber and blue of the city and towards his chamber door. However, before he made it more than a handful of steps, something caught the corner of his eye. Down where the bridge to the Royal chambers met the commons was a Hylian, walking with a meandering, clumsy stride as he made his way toward the building. Squinting against the setting sunlight, Link was able to better make out his features. It was Barlow, red faced and grinning madly.

Link sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. He’d seen this many, many times as a trainee. Being much younger than the other recruits, he was unable to join the men at the tavern on their nights off—and often instead found himself carrying his fellow soldiers, red-faced and stumbling, back to the barracks. It seemed this would be such an evening as well. With a groan, Link turned toward the stairs instead of the doorway into his chamber, hurrying down the steps.

As he approached the man halfway across the bridge, Barlow stumbled, clumsily extending an arm to grasp Link’s shoulder and grinning, if possible, even more broadly.

“Link, m’boy! Oh, its good to see you! Isn’ the Domain just…” he gestured wildly around him at the blue stonework glowing dimly in the golden light of sunset, “…grand, this time’a day? Never get tired of it.”

Link nodded absently, slipping an arm under his companion as he helped support the man’s weight and lead him across the bridge, careful to maintain the appearance of casual camaraderie. It wouldn’t do to have Barlow caught stumbling drunkenly through the Domain. It would reflect poorly on Zelda, and besides… Muzu disliked Hylians enough as it was. No need to add fuel to that fire. Although… Taking a quick glance around, it didn’t look like anyone was nearby. At least he had that to be thankful for.

“Let’s head back to the guards’ quarters,” suggested Link. Though he’d aimed for candor, he couldn’t seem to keep the bite from his tone—and Barlow, it seemed wasn’t quite drunk enough to miss it.

Turning his head towards him, he frowned.

“What… whyyy? You don’t wanna enjoy the Domain? It’s so pretty right now!”

Link kept his face impassive as he fought to restrain his annoyance.

“It is very… pretty; but I’ve been here plenty. Right now lets just get you back to the guards’ quarters so you can rest. It’s been a long day.”

Barlow looked at him suspiciously, “Alllllright you. Just ‘cuz I spent the afternoon with Kayden at the Seabed Inn doesn’ mean we were drinking from his selection of fine wines and spirits the whole time. We were… we…”

Barlow trailed off, eyes scrunched in concentration to which Link gave a pointed, silent look. Though he showed momentary affront, Barlow quickly deflated.

“Well… okay, may—maybe I did have a bit too much to drink…”

Link repressed a snort.

“I learned sumthin’ ‘portant tonight, Link,” he said seriously, squinting as he met Link’s unamused gaze. “I’m gettin’ ooooold…!” he crowed, attempting to wave the arm around Link’s shoulder, “That Zora lifespan! Kayden still drinks like he did back when I was twenny-eight! But I guess fer him, he… still… kind of is.” His expression fell, and a small frown worked its way onto his face. “’S kinda sad if you think about it… He’s still so young ‘n I’m… so old…”

Link said nothing, focusing instead on gently kicking in the door to the guard’s chamber and hauling the man inside.

Link led him through the finely, if sparsely, furnished room to the water bed on the opposite side, gently setting him down upon it as Barlow released a huff. Turning towards the small table at the center of the room, he poured a tall glass of water from the provided pitcher, then handed it to the man before sitting upon his own bed opposite the other.

“Drink that—all of it. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

Pulling off his boots and setting them neatly beside his bed, Link leaned back on the pillows, arms behind his head as he gazed at the intricately carved ceiling. From his left Link could hear sloppy gulping and the rustling of leather and cotton as Barlow struggled to shrug off his boots and armor. He largely ignored the older man’s efforts, his duty now done, allowing his thoughts to once more roam. Unsurprisingly, they returned unbidden to the reason he was here in the first place. A frown tugged on his lips as his mind began to sink into his earlier thoughts. Mipha…

“Heyyy, Link?”

With a start, Link turned his head towards the drowsy voice of Barlow. The man was likewise resting on his back, staring at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, so absorbed was he in his own morbid thoughts—but judging by the drowsy state of the man next to him, it had been a while at least.

Barlow turned his squinting eyes towards Link, looking almost confusedly curious.

“I… I gotta ask. ‘S been burnin’ a hole in my head all day. Whas… whas goin’ on between you an’ the Princess? Looked aaawful cozy by the campfire yesserday…”

Link immediately tensed, heat rushing to his face. Shit! He’d… he’d seen that? As calmly as he could manage amid the rising panic, Link looked away nonchalantly, turning his attention back to the ceiling as he answered in even tones.

“There’s nothing going on between the Princess and I.”

Barlow snorted and Link’s fingers subtly clenched into a fist where they lay across his torso.

“Pssshhhhh. Yeeeah, like I was born yesserday. So what ezacly were you two doin’, then, huh?”

Link’s mind raced and he struggled to keep his body still as it was flooded with adrenalin. This was exactly why he’d not wanted to allow the princess any special exceptions to the rules. Now he’d been caught breaking protocol, and a big-mouth had exactly the wrong idea. Or, well, he wasn’t exactly sure if it was the wrong idea because he wasn’t exactly sure what the right idea was… But regardless, he couldn’t afford to have Barlow walk away with that… interpretation.

Din dammit all…!

“The Princess… she…” How was he supposed to explain this?! The truth… well, the truth sounded like a lazy lie. ‘The Princess and I have just become close friends.’ Yeah, right. He could almost hear Barlow laughing about what a touchy-feely ‘friend’ the Princess was. His cheeks heated at the thought, the memory of her hands upon his skin still vivid in his mind.

“The Princess, she… we aren’t…” He faltered, words once more failing him. His mind raced, desperately grasping for some explanation he could give that wouldn’t land him in a heap of trouble or tarnish Zelda’s reputation; but before he could even utter a word, a loud snore ripped through his stuttering. Turning his head towards the older man with a start, he saw his mouth gaping, eyes shut and arm hanging off the side of the bed. Link breathed a sigh of relief, feeling his muscles begin to relax. He’d dodged that bullet, at least for now. But what would he say if Barlow asked again once he was sober?

And dare he ask himself the question… what was going on between the Princess and himself? In all honesty, there hadn’t been anything “going on” beside the campfire; she had simply been… worried for him. But when she’d touched him, her delicate fingers sliding across his cheek, he’d felt an overwhelming urge to move closer, to bridge the small distance between them and capture her soft, parted lips with his own. It was then, when he realized the highly inappropriate nature of the thoughts running through his mind, that he’d snapped back to reality, awkwardly and hurriedly excusing himself from the campfire. Then he’d run into Barlow by the horses, and—

Link’s eyes widened in sudden realization. THAT was why Barlow had been so nervous when he’d seen him! He must have returned earlier than he let on and seen them having their… ‘conversation’.

Link closed his eyes and sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. Zelda had made her intentions clear: she wanted a friend, a confidant. She had no one to share her struggles with, no one to confide in. By virtue of his position as her appointed knight and the Wielder of the Master Sword he was her constant companion, and the only person who truly understood the burden of destiny she had carried; he had carried that burden, too. And in truth, he’d been happy to be that, to be her friend and confidant.

But if he were really, truly honest with himself—something had changed; he wasn’t sure when, and perhaps not for her—but certainly for him. He worried about her when she was struggling in a way he never had before, even if she tried to hide it—and he always knew when she was trying to hide it; he enjoyed her company perhaps too much, and found himself thinking of her a little more than just ‘often’ when he wasn’t around her. He found himself paying special attention to the little things: her favorite flowers, how she liked her tea, the way her fingers fidgeted when she was nervous. Was that simply friendship? Farore knew he was lacking in this department—how was he to know? But… friends didn’t think about kissing their friends… did they?

Link opened his eyes and scrutinized the blue stone ceiling, as though the intricate etchings upon its surface held the answers. The light of the setting sun had finally faded, leaving the room bathed in the dim blue glow of the proto-luminescent stone walls. If they did possess answers, they were not forthcoming.

And… what of Princess Mipha?

At the thought of her, Link felt a sudden tearing sensation in his chest, a sensation he’d been trying very hard to avoid; but finally being back in the place soaked in happy childhood memories of her—he found himself struggling to keep the feelings at bay. Pain and frustration welled within him and he found himself clenching his hands into tight fists once again, embedding crescents into his palm. Life couldn’t just be simple, could it?

He’d spent years of his youth being carted from place to place to train, denied a ‘normal’ childhood. He was a prodigy, they’d said, his potential couldn’t be wasted, they’d said. He’d been happy enough to get out and see the world at such a young age when all his peers were stuck  in Hateno going to primary school—finding a friend in Mipha during his time in Zora’s Domain and a friend in Daruk during his training in Goron City. He’d even been happy to join the Royal Guard at the unthinkably young age of 15. And then after only a year and a half, just enough time to get settled and comfortable in his new role, he’d drawn the Master Sword—and everything had changed, yet again.

Six months he spent training under the Sheikah at the castle further honing his skills, before the Guardian incident which landed him his appointment with the Princess. Then followed a year of vitriol: from nobles who blamed him for the coming Calamity, as though HE had decided that now was the time to begin the countdown to possible annihilation; from a Princess who resented his presence—no matter if she was eventually able to set aside that resentment. A year and a half knowing and yet not knowing what was coming, of worrying he wouldn’t be enough. And then… they did it. They stopped it. And he thought maybe he could finally rest, could finally begin his life again. But then the King fell into a coma, the military decimated, the kingdom in shambles, and the Princess—his friend, his charge—fell apart at the dawn of her ascension; and once again here he was, having no idea where he fit into everything—let alone how he felt about it all.

And Princess Mipha. His heart clenched painfully at the thought of her. He’d barely had a chance to really, truly process the fact that she was… gone. They’d been so close when they were younger, and time and circumstance had drawn distance between them; yet he had always cared for her, no amount of time or distance had ever changed that. She had wanted to spend more time with him once it was all over; he’d wanted that, too. And now a new kind of distance separated them, one that could never be bridged.

He stubbornly blinked back the moisture in his eyes, letting out a bone-deep sigh as he turned on his side to gaze, unseeing, at the opposite wall.

Thoughts continued to whirl in his head as Barlow snored across from him, blissfully unaware of the Knight’s inner turmoil. As the hours ticked by, sleep proved elusive. Two Princesses relentlessly occupied his mind, surrounded by a plethora of unanswered questions which left him only more agitated and frustrated. It wasn’t until the moon was high in the sky that sleep finally claimed him; but it was a fitful doze, one that left him weary and thoroughly unprepared for the day ahead.


	20. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: spoilers for the DLC

 

Zelda took a quiet, shaky breath in an attempt to maintain her composure. King Dorephan, well known for his stoicism and strength, was sobbing uncontrollably over the blue sash she had just presented him; and as soon as his tears began to spill, every Zora in the throne room—elders, guards, and even brave little Prince Sidon—had burst into tears as well. She knew the Zora to be a very forthright people who wore their emotions on their sleeve (so to speak, for a race which wore very little clothing), but even she had not expected such a reaction.  
  
Upon her arrival the evening prior she had encountered few Zora aside from the usual guards posted around the Domain. After formal introductions with Muzu, she had retreated to her quarters and gone to bed early, in preparation for the difficult day ahead; however, that left her with little indication of the heartbreakingly somber mood which had befallen the normally cheerful city.  
  
She bit the inside of her cheek, turning her face down to stare at her hands when she could no longer maintain the mask of polite empathy she knew to be the appropriate and expected response in a formal reception such as this. The necklace resting against her breast beneath the neckline of her royal gown hung, now, like a weight—as though gaining mass with each echoing cry. She had brought it with her in the hopes that perhaps it might provide some comfort; that maybe, in some way, it would serve as her own, silent tribute to Mipha’s sacrifice. It had, after all, been a gift from the Zora Princess—a token of good will upon her acceptance of the role of Zora champion. It bore the mark of the Zora royal family: cast in polished silver, and hanging elegantly from a fine silver chain. Back then it had given her hope—reassured her of the unbreakable strength she hoped a union between all five races of Hyrule might possess. Now, with the sobs of a father who now survived his firstborn child echoing in the cavernous throne room, it served instead as a stinging reminder of her failure.  
  
Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to join them—to let her tears flow alongside the King; but that did little to convey the image of a strong and collected monarch—an image her people desperately needed, to guide them through this tumultuous time. The thought fleetingly occurred to her that such an approach could be wrong—that perhaps her father’s early lessons in social politics were misguided; maybe such a show of vulnerability would not be viewed as weakness or a violation of decorum in such a setting. But… it did not matter. Her instincts, honed by a lifetime of rigorous training in royal etiquette, would allow her no such impropriety as tears. She had not cried at her mother’s processional—she would not cry here.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye she could see Barlow struggling, his pudgy jowls quivering with the effort of keeping himself restrained. Link, on the other hand, looked completely numb. His eyes were glassy, staring blankly ahead, posture as stiff and rigid as the day he stood before Ganon.  
  
However, before she had decided how to best to tactfully and courteously proceed in the face of such an outcry, King Dorephan spoke, his voice wavering uncontrollably.  
  
“Th-thank you, Princess. This… this is a v-very dif-difficult time for all of us in the D-Domain.” He sniffed twice more, several large tears leaking from his eyes before lifting a hand to wipe them away. Clearing his throat, he continued in a steadier voice. “I want you to know… I do not blame you or Master Link for what happened. Without you two, we all would be lost, not just my… my dear, s-sweet Mipha.”  
  
Zelda offered a stiff nod. Though she felt heartened by his words, she couldn’t help but notice the scowls which adorned the faces of the Zora elders in the room—especially Muzu. Not everyone, it seemed, was in agreement.  
  
Returning her gaze to the puffy-eyed king, she cleared her throat, pushing past the lump which had formed there. “Thank you, your Grace.”  
  
Pulling the sash closer against his chest the King spoke, the waver in his voice returning. “We… we will be unveiling a statue in her honor this afternoon. We would be honored for you and Master Link to join us in celebrating…” the King trailed off and he shut his eyes against the pain momentarily before continuing, his voice rough and expression anguished, “In celebrating her m-memory.”  
  
Zelda swallowed thickly. “Of course, your Grace. We… we would be most honored to attend.”  
  
The King sniffed, his grip on the sash tightening.  
  
“Thank you… for your kind words, and for the honor and recognition you have given my daughter’s sacrifice. Your courtesy means a great deal to us all.”  
  
Zelda nodded, throat too tight to speak.  
  
“However, if you wouldn’t mind, I should like some time alone before the unveiling.”  
  
“Of course, your Grace. I thank you most sincerely for this audience. May—” Zelda felt her chest tightened. Taking a small, steadying breath, she pushed herself on. “May the Goddess be with you, and all of Zora’s Domain during this difficult time.”  
  
Slowly, she curtsied, ignoring the knot forming in her throat which threatened to break into a sob. She just needed to hold it together for a few minutes more, just long enough to make it back to her quarters—she could release her grief there. Raising herself, she offered a faint and, she knew, very false smile.  
  
“I will take my leave.”  
  
Turning, she forced her shoulders back and head high as she made for the stairway. Behind her she heard Dorephan order the room clear, the sound of a dozen slapping footsteps following his words as the Zora in the room turned towards the stairs as well. Her thoughts were just beginning to turn to her chamber, and where in her bags she had packed away Link’s tea when the King’s voice called out after them.  
  
“Ah—one last thing, Princess. If it is of no inconvenience, may I speak with Master Link before you depart? Privately.”  
  
Surprised, Zelda turned to face the King, then glanced quickly at Link. She knew he and the Zora royal family to have a close relationship, and as such she supposed it was not an entirely unexpected request—but judging my Link’s nonplussed expression, he had not anticipated it any more than she. What, then, could the King wish to see him about? She eyed Link questioningly, and after a moment of unsurety he responded with a subtle nod of assent.  
  
“Yes of course, your Grace. Link—please return to the guards’ quarters when you are done,” Zelda answered, with more confidence than she felt. Link offered her a brief but firm nod before turning from her, heading back into the throne room as Zelda and Barlow proceeded in the opposite direction. As she began to descend the large stone stairway, her fingers twisted where she held her hands before her waist. Though she couldn’t place why, the King’s request left her feeling uneasy.

  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
  
Link approached Dorephan slowly, coming to stand before him as the last Zora filed from the room. Though he kept his posture rigid and face impassive, inwardly Link was roiling—grief and sorrow and anger and despair all warring for dominance in his heart. This had proved a far more difficult meeting than he had anticipated. He had expected tears—expected grief; but seeing the King—a man he had known since childhood to be a pillar of strength and poise, and who had for over a year now treated Link as family—express his grief without restraint and with such fervor… It had done irreparable damage to the dam he’d built to keep his own grief at bay.  
  
But he could do this. He was the Goddess’ chosen—a pillar of strength in his own right. Whatever the King wished to speak with him about, he’d make it through, then return to his quarters where he could privately distance himself from the rawness of his own pain. He would rebuild that dam brick by brick if he had to.  
  
The King kept his eye on the exit, watching as the last Zora disappeared beyond the slope of the stairs. Once the room was entirely vacant save the two of them, he finally turned to Link.  
  
As their eyes met, Link noticed Dorephan’s gaze held a new emotion—one he had not expressed earlier: regret. With a shaky sigh the King slowly stood from his throne, sloshing softly as he moved through the water, blue lines of reflected light dancing on the cavernous ceiling. Gripping tightly to the sash, he rose from the basin and walked toward a small table in the corner of the room, gently folding the blue cloth atop its surface beside a package wrapped in delicate Fleet-Lotus paper. He spoke softly as he stared warily at the neatly wrapped object.  
  
“Link, my boy.”  
  
Link felt a stone settle in his gut. He had known Dorephan long enough, now, to know that this was not a tone of voice which ever accompanied good things. He swallowed, squaring his shoulders—and his heart—in preparation for a heavy blow.  
  
Dorephan picked up the package—comparatively small within his large hands, then began a slow return to the throne. Stepping into the basin and sloshing his way to the submerged seat, he sat down heavily upon it. After several silent moments, he finally lifted his head to meet Link’s gaze once more, eyes tired and his expression laced with grief.  
  
“Have you ever heard the story of the Miracle of the White Scale?”  
  
Link tried not to look too surprised by the question, forcing his mind to focus on the king’s unexpected inquiry. The title sounded familiar—perhaps a story he’d heard in passing during his many years in Zora’s Domain—though Link did not remember the story’s content. He shook his head.  
  
“No, your Grace.”  
  
“Our scholars say that in the distant past… Zora’s Domain had a king with no special talent for the art of war. However, what he lacked in skill with a blade he made up for in love for his people, and especially love for his queen. One day, news reached the king of a horde of monsters gathering in the Zodobon Highlands. The king steeled himself for war to protect his people, but the queen knew how ill suited for the task he was. Worried for his life, she wove one of her own scales into his armor, hoping that her love would protect him in battle.”  
  
Link listened attentively, despite his confusion at the direction the conversation had turned. He had no idea why the King was interested in imparting Zora history at such a time as this—or why he needed to speak with him privately in order to do so.  
  
“It seemed, for a time, that the tide of battle favored the Zora and that all would make it safely home. But the cunning Lizalfos general saw an opening and seized it, driving the king’s forces into a corner. Just when the general’s sword was ready to crash down upon the king, a miracle took place. An errant sunbeam reflected from the scale on his armor blinded the Lizalfos, stopping the deathblow from falling. This was the chance the king needed to rally his forces and turn the tide, taking down the general and securing victory. This came to be known as the Miracle of the White Scale, a scale that only female Zora possess.”  
  
The King then looked down at the package in his hands, his voice becoming hoarse as he continued tremulously. “And… it was this miracle that began the tradition of Zora princesses crafting armor for their future husbands.”  
  
Returning his gaze to Link, he cleared his throat, then gestured with his free hand for him to approach. “Please—come.”  
  
Link stepped up to the edge of the water, still just as flummoxed but taking pains to keep his expression as neutral as he could under the circumstances. He supposed everyone had a different way of grieving… though he couldn’t puzzle out the logic behind the King’s expression of it.  
  
The King silently extended the package, which Link took in hand with a great deal of confusion.  
  
“Mipha crafted this for you. She… had intended to give it to you, next you returned to the Domain.”  
  
Link pulled back the wrapping, the delicate crinkle of fine paper echoing faintly in the cavernous throne room as a folded garment was revealed within: a dark blue scaled tunic with a single white scale embedded in the chest, and adorned with the mark of the Zora royal family. What…? Link looked back up to the King, brow furrowed in confusion, his brain struggling to put the pieces together. Mipha had crafted him armor…? Why would she…  
  
His eyes blew wide. Like having the wind knocked from his lungs by a suprise blow from a Hinox, the truth came crashing suddenly down upon him. The story… the armor…  
  
Mipha… she was… she had…  
  
“I suspected you didn’t know how she felt.” The King’s hoarse voice sounded distant, as though spoken from the other end of a long tunnel. “Mipha… she was always such a shy girl when it came to these things.” He sighed heavily, a mournful, weary sound as though a wheezing sob. “She—she loved you… so very deeply.”  
  
Leaning forward and raising a large arm, he placed it gently upon Link’s shoulder, a gesture the boy scarcely noticed amid the rapid drumming of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears.  
  
“I—I want you to know…”  
  
Link was scarcely able to lift his wide-eyed gaze to meet the the King’s watery orbs. Though directly in front of him, somehow, Dorephan’s voice sounded so very far away.  
  
“I want you know that I—I will always think of you as a son, even if fate robbed us both of the opportunity for such a thing to be.”  
  
Link dimly registered the King’s words, his hands tightening reflexively on the armor folded neatly in the half-opened paper. Trembling—his hands were trembling. The King sat back in his seat, gazing worriedly at Link.  
  
“I imagine this is a shock for you. I—I’m sorry it had to be this way; but I wanted you to know. Mipha…” the King paused, gaze briefly turning aside as a single sob escaped from his throat. “M-mipha would have wanted you to know.”  
  
With effort Link tore his gaze from the King, glancing back down at the armor—at the single white scale which adorned the breast plate. Mipha’s scale—a scale only she possessed; the only thing left of her… He could feel the shaking in his shoulders, now. _‘I suspected you didn’t know how she felt…’_ Mipha, she… she was in love— _had loved_ —  
  
Something inside him cracked.  
  
He thought that he could hide all of his pain and sorrow and rage in that box in his heart and close the lid forever. He thought he could accept that she was gone, even if it hurt like hell. But now… memory after memory flashed through his mind, tinged with the excruciating pain of this new understanding. Turbulent, violent, powerful emotions began to erupt inside him, overwhelming his awareness; overwhelming his heart. His whole body shook and his vision blurred with the tears which pooled in his eyes. And though through the fog of his anguish he was barely aware of it, he felt his throat burn as he released a strangled cry, falling to his knees—his meticulously maintained control finally disintegrating like char between his fingers.

  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
  
Not ten minutes after returning to her chamber, Zelda found herself pacing circles on the blue stone floor, her hands twisting in agitation. Barlow had retired to the guards quarters above her own, seeming as distraught as she, but doing his best to mask it. Once she too had settled in her chambers, however, the tears had not come to her as she thought they would. It seemed her sorrow would instead manifest as restlessness. She was on her tenth trip around the room, and seemed due for ten more.  
  
Passing before the window once more on her circuit, Zelda caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. Pausing in her stride and turning, she saw young Prince Sidon standing halfway down the bridge connecting the royal quarters to the Domain, staring with determination at her door, hands clenched into firm fists at his sides. Upon noticing her curious gaze out the window, the young Zora seemed momentarily to shrink in his resolve, but soon squared his little red shoulders and marched the rest of the way down the bridge, stopping just outside of her door. In short order, she heard a knock.  
  
Curious as to what the young Prince was so resolved to see her about, and eager for anything to take her mind off her restless agitation, she crossed the short distance to the door and pulled it open. Sidon’s cherubic face greeted her, any trace of his earlier sorrow gone and replaced by stalwart determination.  
  
“Hi Princess,” he greeted with charm, offering a flourishing bow. “I was hoping you might have a moment to speak wif me.”  
  
Zelda had to suppress a smile, the first she’d felt all day. The young Prince appeared serious about whatever he wished to discuss, and she did not want to seem condescending, regardless of how adorable his pink cheeks were.  
   
“Prince Sidon! Of course, please come in.”  
  
The young Zora crossed the threshold, moving toward the window and jumping up onto the cushioned window-side bench, his tiny legs dangling high off the floor. The boy wasted no time getting to the point.  
  
“I… was hoping to aks you a question, Princess.”  
  
Zelda closed the door and crossed the room, taking a seat beside the young Zora.  
  
“Yes, of course.”  
  
The Prince seemed to struggle a moment before the words came. “Do… do you ‘member when you came to aks my sister to be Ruta’s pilot? On toppa the waterfall?”  
  
Surprised, Zelda nodded. “Yes… yes, I do.”  
  
“I—I just… wonderd…” Sidon’s already tenuous courage seemed to seep out of him with each word. He turned from her, looking down at his lap where his hands fidgeted. He took a shuddering breath, squaring his shoulders before finally returning his gaze to hers. His eyes shone with unshed tears.  
  
“Did she know she wasn’ gonna come back?”  
  
The startling question echoed momentarily in her mind before she fully processed what he was asking. And when she did, Zelda felt her expression fall and her heart break. Mipha’s necklace hung heavier than ever against her breast, and a resurgent tide of emotion crashed over her.  
  
She knew exactly what he was asking about. The day Zelda had come to receive Mipha’s answer, she had been teaching Sidon how to swim up the waterfall. He’d been nervous, unsure of how to proceed and so Mipha had dived down, kindly swimming up with him on her back so he could get a feel for it. Once at the top, where she and the Zora Princess had been discussing the matter, Mipha knelt to his level, looking him squarely in the eye and imparting an important message.  
  
“Sweet, Sidon; should fate ever part us… I’m counting on you to protect our beloved home from harm. Understood?”  
  
”I believe in you.”  
  
And now, she was gone. Fate had parted them, just as she’d said it might and now, here he was, a younger brother keenly feeling the loss of a loved one; and a young prince, feeling the weight of the role his older sister had left behind—just as she had with her father not that long ago; still was, in many respects. Her throat tightened as she took in his large, glassy eyes, desperately imploring her for some sort of answer.  
  
“Oh, Sidon…” she whispered.  
  
Several responses passed through her mind. She could answer with a simple ‘I don’t know’. That was the easiest answer, even if it wasn’t strictly true. She could give him cookie-cutter words of sympathy, the kind of response she so often received after her mother’s passing.  
  
Or… she could be honest with the young prince. He certainly deserved it, given the sacrifice he’d been forced to make because of her failure. And though perhaps it wasn’t exactly the most virtuous motivation, after the emotional meeting she’d had with King Dorephan she wanted to release some of her own rawness somehow. She’d originally hoped to find time to talk to Link or write in her diary—or maybe both. But Link hadn’t yet returned from his meeting with the King, and she hadn’t been able to sit still long enough to put her thoughts to paper. Though Sidon was young, and probably didn’t quite understand what the Calamity actually was, maybe… maybe she could find some kinship with his sorrow, and maybe he could find kinship in hers. She took a steadying breath.  
  
“That is… not an easy question to answer,” she said softly, “But I will try to answer honestly.”  
  
Sidon nodded, settling in his seat, attention rapt upon her. Despite herself, she felt the familiar weight of guilt pull upon her heart.  
  
“The Calamity… we all knew it was coming, but no one really knew what it was, whether it would manifest as a Hylian, or a Zora, or a monster, or… something else. All we knew was that it was a force of great evil, and that if given the chance it would destroy Hyrule. Your sister…” Zelda felt her throat constrict and swallowed it down, pushing herself to continue. “Your sister was chosen to Pilot Vah Ruta because she was special. She was gifted, and brave, and selfless, and only such special people are capable of piloting the divine beasts. She knew this, and wanted to help her people and the Kingdom of Hyrule, so chose to accept that responsibility.”  
  
“Though we did all we could to prepare, we had no guarantee of victory. The last Calamity happened 10,000 years ago, and few records remain. For all of us, all the Champions—myself and Link included—there was a chance that we would never come back.” She paused. “Your sister also knew this, and still chose to pilot Ruta.”  
  
Sidon’s lip began to quiver, and without thinking she reached forward, grasping his tiny hands in her own. Despite her efforts to maintain her composure, she found her voice wavering as she continued.  
  
“To answer your question, yes, she knew there was a chance she may not return. But please understand, it was not an easy choice for her to make. She loved her people, she loved Hyrule, and most of all she loved you—and she wanted to protect all that she loved, even if it meant risking her life.”  
  
By the end of her impromptu speech, Zelda found her sight blurring with unshed tears, Sidon’s own watery expression distorted by the moisture in her eyes. She felt Sidon’s hands grip hers tighter, his soft voice quivering with grief.  
  
“I’m happy she helped save Hyrule. But…”  
  
He paused, lips puckering with the effort to keep from crying. “I miss her.”  
  
The tears finally slid down her cheeks as she met the young boy’s eyes, the lump in her throat causing her voice to come out barely a whisper.  
  
“I miss her, too.”  
  
Without warning, Sidon launched himself at her, wrapping his arms around her waist, unable to hold back his sobs. Zelda felt the last of her willpower crumble as well, wrapping her arms around his small frame and holding him close, the last little bit of Mipha that was left in this world. Silent tears streamed freely from her eyes as she shared in the grief of the young Prince, their sorrow finding comforting release in each others arms.


	21. What Can Never Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this the missed December update. I'm going to try to squeeze out another update before the end of the month. I really want to try to keep to one update a month at the least! Enjoy, and don't forget to leave a comment with your thoughts!

Zelda felt lighter than she had in a while. Though seeing Sidon in such a state had quickly summoned lingering tendrils of guilt to squeeze at her heart, his easy acceptance of her own pain had done much to soothe the sting of regret. Crying with him on the bench, his short, pudgy arms wrapped tightly around her waist, she felt a release—felt some of that pain drain from her heart and wash away. It had been the lifting of a surprising weight.  
  
However, the unveiling was quickly approaching. Adjusting her skirt, she prepared to head upstairs to check in with Link when a knock at the door startled her out of her quiet meditation upon the vanity stool. Rising to answer her visitor—perhaps Sidon had returned, she was surprised upon opening the towering stone door to see Seggin standing before her.  
  
“Oh—Sergeant Seggin! How may I help you?”  
  
The green-skinned Zora bowed briefly, handing her a rolled scroll stamped with the seal of the Zora royal family.  
  
“Good afternoon, Princess. I was sent by King Dorephan to accompany you to the unveiling. I have been told Master Link will be unable to attend, and I have been sent in his place.”  
  
Zelda started, her earlier worry returning forcefully as she grasped the outstretched note with confusion and more than just a little trepidation. Cautiously unrolling the delicate fleet-lotus parchment and vainly attempting to keep her anxiety at bay, she was greeted by a brief note in the King’s jagged handwriting:  
  
“Princess-Regent Zelda,  
  
My sincerest apologies, but Master Link was not feeling well after our meeting. He and Mipha were very close and I believe he may need some time for himself. Though I realize this is highly unconventional, I have given him leave and sent along Sergeant Seggin to accompany you this afternoon to the unveiling in his stead. Master Link has pledged to return to the royal quarters by the evening.  
  
-King Dorephan”  
  
Zelda read and reread the note with disbelief several times before lifting her gaze from the parchment to stare into the polite face of Sergeant Seggin, standing dutifully straight with silver spear in hand.  
  
Dorephan did not have the authority to dismiss Link from his duty, and she knew he was quite well aware of that fact. Doing so anyway was… most unorthodox, to put it mildly, and a breach of her sovereignty to consider the action in its most severe terms. So what would possess Dorephan to do such a thing? If he felt it necessary, despite the blatant overreach of power such an action exerted… was Link alright? Was he ill? What could have so distressed him as to render him unable to appear publicly at the unveiling?  
  
Or perhaps… perhaps Link simply could not bear to reveal such weaknesses to her. Perhaps he felt more comfortable grieving before King Dorephan, whom he had known since he was a child, than he did before her—despite how close she thought they had become.  
  
No… no, she couldn’t think like that, it was unfair. Whatever had happened… she needed to have more faith in Link. The real question now was not about Link, but the King. Dorephan had long since been a trustworthy ally. Despite this transgression, should she trust his judgment or confront him about this overstep? But she was a guest, and largely responsible for the death of his daughter. Would he view it as an aggression against him or the Zora Kingdom?  
  
Though in her heart it felt a cruel thing to confront him on such a matter at a time like this, she couldn’t help but worry about setting a precedent—that Hyrule would permit its authority to be subsumed by any ally nation’s whims or wants. It would not do to have Hyrule appear weak at such an unstable time, and especially under her, truthfully, unsure and inexperienced leadership.  
  
But… it was his _daughter’s memorial_ , and until now he had always been a friend and faithful ally of the kingdom…  
  
A subtle cough returned her attention to the Sergeant standing at the threshold, awaiting her instruction. She didn’t have time to debate this. Rolling up the scroll and hiding her mounting worry behind a false smile, she nodded politely.  
  
“Thank you, Sergeant. Please check in with Master Barlow upstairs, I should be ready to leave shortly.”  
  
As she closed the door, she set the scroll down atop a table near the door, hand hovering over the parchment before turning towards the vanity and taking a seat once more before the mirror. Staring into the weary eyes of her reflection she let out a heavy breath. She would do nothing. She did not know for certain if her chosen course of action was the right one, but in that split second a feeling had arisen within her, bidding her trust and patience—and despite her logical instincts to the contrary, she felt compelled to listen.  
  
She lifted the blue hairbrush, made of the same stone as the Domain, and slowly ran it through the strands of her hair as she gazed past her reflection in the glass. That still, however, left that matter of Link.  
  
Whatever was going on with her knight that compelled the King to such actions… she desperately hoped he was okay.

  
  
-:-:-:-

  
  
The unveiling was a somber, mournful affair. The whole of Zora’s Domain was in attendance, cramming into the central plaza until there was little room to breath let alone move. Zelda stood near the front before the statue, Barlow and Seggin on either side of her and just a step behind. Though she tried to hold a regal air, the effect was somewhat nullified by Prince Sidon clinging to her skirts. The poor boy barely reached her hips in height, his arms wrapped firmly around her knees. She didn’t mind… it was comforting to feel such an expression of warmth during such a sorrowful affair.  
  
The statue was lovely. The polished blue stone sparkled in the sunlight. Mipha was depicted holding her lightscale trident across her chest point down, looking regal and gentle and beautiful as she rode a cresting wave. As soon as King Dorephan had lifted the cloth covering it and her likeness became visible, tears and sobs erupted around the plaza. Zelda held back, though only just. Little Sidon, however, offered no such restraint, crying freely into her knees and soaking the fabric of her gown. Zelda yearned to hold him once again, but with the limited room around her to move, settled herself with resting a hand comfortingly atop his head.  
  
King Dorephan offered only a few words, speaking to the crowd with a level voice despite the tears which flowed down his cheeks.  
  
“May our dear, sweet Mipha find rest in the arms of the Goddess; and may this statue commemorate the noble sacrifice she made to keep Zora’s Domain and all of Hyrule safe from the Calamity.”  
  
And that was that. The crowd remained thick for many minutes after, and Zelda contented herself to stand and gaze upon the stone likeness of Mipha, contemplating the Princess’ passing and her role in it until the crowd cleared.  
  
Try as she might she couldn’t shake her lingering sense of responsibility, despite managing to move beyond the soul-crushing guilt she’d felt upon learning of the news. She was beginning to suspect she would never be rid of it; a battle scar of a different sort, rent upon her heart instead of her flesh. She suspected, now, that this was why her Father had pushed her so hard—why he had at times been so cold with her. Though his reign had, until recently, been largely peaceful, he nonetheless knew of war and the cost of conflict. At the time his scoldings had felt so much like simply the disdain of a disappointed parent; but he had been trying to protect her as much as the people of Hyrule—from this.  
  
After a time Prince Sidon bid her a teary farewell, to follow after his father who had retreated to the throne room to grieve in private; yet still she lingered, captivated by the gentle expression upon Mipha’s stone face. The Princess had always been so gentle—always possessed the tenderest touch with which to heal any wound, and the most comforting words to reassure any heart.  
  
Her thoughts wandered to Link. He would have liked to see this; perhaps there would be an opportunity tomorrow, prior to their departure. Where was he? She hadn’t felt it appropriate to inquire of the King during the unveiling, and didn’t wish to disturb his grieving after. She was worried, and becoming moreso with each passing moment despite the King’s assurances. He had been so remarkably even-tempered prior to their audience—calm waters, as always; but perhaps that most worrisome sign. Amidst all this turmoil, he was simply too calm.  
  
As her thoughts began to tangle and weave into an ever-tighter knot, she finally turned from the statue, heading in the direction of the royal chambers with an unusually silent Barlow and Seggin following after her. She needed to get her mind off of these matters—especially the matter of Link’s disappearance. He promised to return by evening, and so she needed merely wait. Perhaps her books could keep her occupied until then.

  
  
-:-:-:-

  
  
Zelda lifted her pack, setting it atop the blissful water bed and digging through its contents. Finally finding the object of her search, she lifted a small, rectangular package wrapped in several layers of waxy paper and tied with twine. Undoing the knot and pulling off the paper, she held the old, delicate tome with both hands, eying it with satisfaction.  
  
No title adorned the cover, but flipping to the title page revealed the books contents: “The Founding Myths of Hyrule”. No author was listed. It was a hand-written tome, evidence of its age and era as more modern books had long since been created by presses.  
  
She had decided that the best way to learn about her powers—something that had been passed down through her line for countless generations—was to start at the beginning. So, prior to her departure, she scheduled a side-trip to the library to search the ancient texts section of the Royal Archives. She hadn't had as much time to peruse as she would have liked--despite everything going on in the Kingdom, somehow someone had found the time and interest to put forth a request to visit the Royal Archives to research a personal project, and the ever-dutiful library staff had granted his request in timely fashion. Coming on the heels of the funeral and with her Royal tour looming, she'd felt in no mood to put on a polite smile for the man, let alone share her sanctuary with a stranger--and so she had cut her visit a bit short.  
  
Yet even still, as she quickly navigated the shelves of the ancient texts section, she soon found this promising volume. It was a facsimile of one of the oldest tomes documenting the earliest period of the Kingdom. The original, or rather what was left of the original, was locked safely away behind glass in the preservation room; and so she felt no qualms in requesting this copy packaged for transit.  
  
Carrying the tome to the window seat—perhaps she might spot Link when he returned to the royal quarters—she opened the book and began to skim through its thick vellum pages. As she flipped to chapter one the title caught her eye and she stopped, leaning in closer to read:  
  
“The Goddess Hylia and the War with Demise”  
  
“There was once a war of unmatched scale and ferocity, the likes of which would never be seen again.  
  
One dark, fateful day, the earth cracked wide and malevolent forces rushed forth from the fissure. Led by a creature called Demise, they mounted a brutal assault upon the surface people, driving the land into deep despair. They burnt forests to ash, choked the land’s sweet springs, and murdered without hesitation. They did all this in their lust to take the ultimate power protected by Her Grace, the Goddess.  
  
The power she guarded was without equal. Handed down by the Gods of old, this power gave its holder the means to make any desire a reality. Such was the might of the ultimate power that the old ones placed it in the care of the Goddess.  
  
To prevent this great power from falling into the hands of the evil swarming the lands, the Goddess gathered the surviving humans on an outcropping of earth. She sent it skyward, beyond the reach of the demonic hordes, beyond even the clouds. With the humans safe, the Goddess joined forces with the land dwellers and fought the evil forces, sealing them away. At last, peace was restored to the surface.  
  
But all was not well. Her Grace, the Goddess—later called Hylia, was mortally wounded by Demise’s final blow. No longer able to carry out her sacred duty, she hid the ultimate power away, burying it deep within an ancient stronghold and guarded by powerful creatures and difficult trials. She then crafted a sword, sharper and swifter than any other blade—an unbreakable weapon containing a shard of her very own power. This sword, the Goddess Blade, was to be wielded only by her chosen hero to battle the malevolent forces should they ever return. This too she hid away, its location entrusted only to the leader of the sky people.  
  
With her dying breath she cast a powerful spell, binding her soul to the task of guarding the ultimate power, her chosen hero, and protecting the land and its people from Demise and his forces, should ever they return.  
  
In her honor, the people came to be called Hylians, and the land: Hyrule.”  
  
Zelda reread the passage several times, the thrill of discovery bubbling up within her. Though it was only a book of mythology, myths and legends were born of truth—her own father had been skeptical when years ago that fortune teller foretold Ganon’s return. Everyone knew of the legends but none believed them to be true. Sure enough, as the fortune teller’s first warnings of dark creatures invading the land came to pass, her father’s skepticism morphed into genuine fear, and it was that fear which spurred him to dig through the tomes and scrolls which documented Hyrule’s history. It was within a secret chamber in the castle library—a chamber stumbled upon by a hapless librarian’s assistant, which held the ancient texts proving the fortune teller true. Perhaps there was such a kernel of historical truth within this myth as well.  
  
There was little documentation about the Goddess Hylia, despite being Hyrule’s primary deity. Though still respected, the old gods Farore, Nayru, and Din had ceased to be the primary subjects of worship in the Kingdom shortly after the last calamity. Though there were pockets of people within the Kingdom who still worshiped the old pantheon, it was to Hylia that the shrines throughout the land were dedicated. This lack of information had been a point of frustration for Zelda as she worked to unlock her powers over the years. It was from Hylia her family had been blessed—without the guidance of her mother, and with little to no knowledge or understanding of The Goddess, her gift, or her intent in bestowing it, it had felt an impossible task to unlock her powers.  
  
But here… even it if was simply a myth, perhaps she could find other texts to cross-reference with this information, to determine what details might hold truth and which may be fictions. It was a starting point at least. Leaping from the window-side bench with eagerness, she grabbed her research journal from her pack upon the bed and returned to her seat to begin jotting down notes. Several hours passed as Zelda laid out key details and possible hypotheses, reading the passages which followed with eagerness and fascination. According to the text the people of the sky flourished for many decades as the surface world returned to a sort of primal peace. Over the years their culture blossomed and they tamed great birds of the sky to fly between the islands Hylia had lifted above the clouds. There was a yearly event amongst the people called the Wing Ceremony, wherein the island residents competed to prove their skill and strength. It was during the Wing Ceremony some quarter century after their ascension into the sky that the future of the sky people changed forevermore.  
  
Eagerly Zelda flipped the page, excited to learn more of these ancient sky people and what happened to change the course of their history, but stopped suddenly at the sight which greeted her. Her heart sank in disappointment. Extending a hand, she felt along the binding at the jagged edges which were all that was left of the twenty or so odd pages which appeared to have torn from the binding due to damage. Flipping to where the pages resumed, the fledgling Kingdom of Hyrule had been established and was under the reign of King Gaepora II.  
  
It was around this period that other tomes documenting the early history of Hyrule began, as it was around this time when the Kingdom had reached its first period of stability and peace, and permanent records began to be kept--which meant there was likely little more of Hyrule's early history hidden in these pages. An inexorable sadness overcame her at the lost history she would never know. What of the Sky People? What of the founding of Hyrule?  
  
She sighed heavily, gently closing the cover. She would have to wait until her return to the castle to look into the matter further.  
  
Lifting her neck from the book, she pulled her shoulders back and stretched, feeling the stiffness slowly fade from her limbs. Looking out the window across the Domain, it glowed faintly in the picturesque golden light of early evening. Yet despite the beautiful scene an anxiety gnawed at her. She felt as though she had forgotten something… something important… Suddenly, her eyes widened. Link!  
  
She hadn’t seen him return—he would have had to walk right past her window to reach the stairs to the balcony above. True, she had been quite absorbed in her text, but surely she would have noticed… But perhaps she had just missed him. He could be so silent when he wanted to be. Trying to calm the worry which flared at her realization, she folded the book and her research notes with forced calm, placing them neatly back in the pack. Heading out the door, she climbed the curving flight of steps to the second floor guards quarters and knocked on the door, wringing her hands as she awaited an answer. Barlow appeared before her, gazing at her curiously with a friendly smile.  
  
“Your Highness! How can I be of assistance?”  
  
Behind him she could see Seggin sitting at the round table near the door, cards laid out before him. Glancing quickly around the room, Link was nowhere to be found. Clearly, he had not yet returned. Zelda tried to hide her distress.  
  
“Ah, sorry to disturb you, I had just wondered if Link returned, but it seems he has not,” she smiled, but it felt horribly fake even to her. Barlow clearly picked up on her uneasiness as his casual smile faded as well, replaced by a look of reassurance.  
  
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon, your Highness. No one is more dependable and loyal to the crown than Master Link. Don’t you worry.”  
  
Zelda nodded, attempting another smile. “I’m sure you’re right.”  
  
Yet despite his surety, she couldn’t stifle the uneasiness which plagued her, adding fuel to the fire her anxiousness was stoking. She needed to cool off—to let out her anxious energy.  
  
“I think I’m going to go for a walk.”  
  
Barlow made to turn and grab his sword and shield from beside the door, but she stopped him with a hand upon his arm, “No, no, you and Master Seggin stay and enjoy your game. I’d like some time to myself, and I won’t be going far.”  
  
Barlow eyed her skeptically, so she attempted to infuse self-assurance into her barely-there smile. “I’ll be quite fine, Master Barlow. I won't be departing the domain, and I won’t be gone long. You and Seggin have a good evening.” Without giving him an opportunity to utter a word of protest, she turned and headed back down the stairs. Halfway down, she allowed herself a sigh of relief upon hearing the thud of the door.  
  
Crossing the bridge into the central plaza of the Domain, her mind churned with thoughts. It was utterly unlike Link to simply… disappear, especially while on duty. Even when he’d cracked a rib at the start of his appointment during a test with the guardians he hadn’t stopped to see it mended, simply grit his teeth and gone on to guard her the rest of the day without complaint. He finally headed off to the infirmary when his shift was over for the night, but even then he hadn’t listened to Healer Ravio and taken a few days rest—he had returned to his duties diligently the next afternoon.  
  
Had he and Mipha been closer than he’d led her to believe? He’d been so reserved on the matter, she felt she couldn’t really be sure. Then again, he was with most things. Had her passing truly hurt him that deeply? Perhaps finally being in Zora’s Domain had made it all sink in.  
  
More than simply that, however… she worried for his safety. If he was as distraught as the King’s letter suggested, what if a monster was able to take advantage of his distraction? Lynels and Lizalfos were known to haunt the waters and mountains surrounding Zora’s Domain. What if, in his upset, he wandered right into danger? But no… she was being silly. He was the wielder of evil’s bane! He could take care of himself.  
  
But… what if…?  
  
Zelda wrung her hands as she absently turned off the main promenade leading out of the domain and onto a side path. No, Barlow was right. Surely Link was fine and would return shortly. She was just being… fretful. The King hadn’t made mention of anything seriously wrong, so she shouldn’t assume the worst. She just needed to calm down and be patient.  
  
As she reached the segment of the winding side-path with a covered balcony, she stopped and leaned against the railing, gazing out at the brilliant blue of the Domain. She sighed, wishing very much that she knew what was going on in the head of her knight; just a small insight would be nice. She’d thought things were going so well between them, that they’d gotten to a point where they could comfortably and freely confide in one another. And yet it seemed Link, perhaps, did not feel the same way? She’d bared so much of her soul to him, it hurt to think that maybe he didn’t trust her enough to do the same.  
  
As her eyes swept the view before her, they stopped at the sight of a bent figure standing on a rocky outcropping below the domain’s promenade, near the water’s edge. That was odd. She squinted, trying to more clearly make out what she was seeing. As the figure lifted its head, a shaggy blond head of hair became visible and her heart skipped a beat. Link!  
  
Without a seconds consideration, she lifted her skirts and ran carefully back along her path to the promenade, then to the ladder which led to the bar beneath, ignoring the curious gazes of Zora guards. With careful but hurried steps she descended, relief rushing through her. As her feet hit the ground, she quickly turned. He stood on the opposite side of the rocky bar, facing away, and hadn’t yet noticed her presence. Gathering her skirts she ran forward, the rushing water masking the sound of her footsteps.  
  
“Link—oh Hylia, Link! Where have you been? I’ve been so worried. You disappeared without a trace… the King had to send word! What happened?”  
  
As she approached, she noticed what she couldn’t see at a distance and it slowed her steps. His shoulders were hunched, tense and quivering; and in his hands was what looked like a navy blue tunic, clutched tightly in a death-grip. He didn’t answer her, and didn’t turn around. A pit settled in her stomach.  
  
“Link?” she asked tentatively, “Link… what’s wrong?” Worry and fear bled into her voice and began to wind slowly around her heart. Something wasn’t right.  
  
“Leave.”  
  
His command was firm and his tone gravelly. She’d never heard him speak in such a way, to anyone let alone her. A shiver ran up her spine, but after all her worrying and waiting, now that she had finally found him she would not be so easily deterred.  
  
“Link, what is going on?”  
  
“LEAVE!” This time he shouted and she took a shocked step back, her heart pounding a rapid and heavy beat in response. Her first instinct told her to do as he said; but another, more stubborn part kept her feet firmly planted. Just as he’d not been cowed by her anger all those weeks ago, neither should she allow herself to be so easily cowed by his. Gathering her courage, she took a step forward, ignoring her whispering doubts and speaking with the calm authority she had learned to use with the Council.  
  
“No; not until you tell me what is going on.”  
  
She took another tentative step forward, but Link did not acknowledge her words.  
  
“Link…”  
  
Suddenly he turned on his heel, red-rimmed eyes blazing and shoulders shaking with rage. Her heart thundered at the terrifying sight before her and she flinched, unconsciously taking several steps back.  
  
“Din Dammit, Zelda!” he roared, “You can never just leave well enough alone, can you?!”  
  
Zelda felt pinned beneath the force of his rage, her hands trembling where they’d moved to hover protectively over her heart. He had never yelled at her—at anyone, that she knew of. Though several responses floated aimlessly across her mind, fear and confusion and stinging hurt left her throat dry and her tongue silent.  
  
“I said LEAVE! Climb back up that ladder and take your Goddess damned legacy with you!” he spat. His tone was contemptuous, his face contorted into a snarl and his eyes blazed with a fiery rage. Who was this strange man standing before her, and where was the Link she knew? Despite the thick skin she had developed over the years of criticism for her failure to unlock her powers, hearing those words from him of all people, said with such vitriol… Suddenly Zelda didn’t feel like the strong, confident Princess-Regent of Hyrule she’d so been trying to be, she felt like the stupid, silly little girl she’d always worried she truly was.  
  
And right now, that stupid, silly little girl felt like crying.  
  
Though she tried to hold his gaze—to hold on to what little courage she still felt, moisture began to pool in her eyes. Afraid and unsure, she turned away, biting her lip to force the tears back.  
  
As quickly as it had come, the rage which had overtaken his features faded away—and in its place was shock. The sound of his knees hitting the bedrock brought her gaze back to his--back to wide, stunned eyes. His voice, only moments ago loud and ferocious, was hoarse and cracked; broken.  
  
“Oh Goddesses, Zelda, I’m so sorry…” He fell to his hands, head hanging and hair covering his face as he whispered, “Please… please forgive me…” Unbidden, a single, quiet sob escaped him.  
  
Though she felt tossed in a dizzying whirlwind of emotions, the sound of his uncharacteristic expression of grief cut through the hurt and confusion clouding her mind. He wasn’t angry at her… not sincerely. Whatever had happened over the past several hours had wounded him deeply; more deeply than anything ever had in the time she’d known him. Pushing his angry words away and rallying her courage once more, she stepped forward, kneeling to join him on the ground. Tentatively she placed a hand on his shoulder. When she felt no resistance, she let it settle more firmly.  
  
“Link…” she said softly, “What happened?”  
  
He was silent for several moments before speaking in barely a whisper, “She… she…”  
  
Reaching forward with one hand, he grasped at the blue tunic—a full set of armor, she realized now that it was sprawled across the ground—pulling it towards him with trembling fingers. Eying it as best she could in the dim light, she noted the insignia of the Zora Royal family, and the scales which shimmered along the garment’s sides. It looked like… it looked like Zora armor. But that didn’t make any sense…  
  
Lifting his head he met her confused gaze, eyes hollow and expression anguished. He spoke weakly, hesitantly.  
  
“Do you know the story of the Miracle of the White Scale?”  
  
Slowly, Zelda nodded, gazing at him without understanding. She didn’t see what that had to do with anything. Mipha was the only Zora Princess in the past several hundred years, and she hadn’t been seeing anyone. In fact she couldn’t even think of anyone outside of her family and the Zora elders she spent much time with, except…  
  
Dear Din. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Link’s meeting with the King, his sudden distress, the armor he clutched so desperately… Her eyes widened. Reaching forward with shaking hands of her own, she gently grasped the item he clutched so tightly, straightening it out until she found a white scale in the center of the breastplate.  
  
“Link… is this… is this Zora armor? From Mipha?”  
  
He nodded, shutting his eyes as moisture pooled at the close of his eyelids, a single tear leaking down his cheek.  
  
It all made sense. This… this changed everything. In rapid succession, one-by-one Zelda’s memories of Mipha took on a completely different hue; Why she’d seemed so distressed when she found out Link was the Hylian Champion, dropping so many hints about Link visiting the Domain more often on his own, her eagerness to assist Link in his training… Her chest tightened.  
  
“Oh, Goddesses, Link…” she whispered. Without a second thought she reached forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him tightly to her. He didn’t resist, letting his arms drop as she held him close, her head burrowing into the base of his neck where his hair hung freely. Slowly, Link raised his arms and wrapped them around her back, his grip tightening as tremors began to wrack his body.  
  
Zelda’s mind was in overdrive. Mipha had been in love with him… so much so, that she’d wanted to marry him! Had Link known—or at least suspected? He had always referred to Mipha as just a friend, a close one, but a friend nonetheless; but he hadn’t been all that forthcoming on the details. Had he been so silent on the subject because of this? Had they been seeing each other in secret? And even if they hadn’t been together, even if Link hadn’t known how she’d felt… did… did Link love Mipha in return?  
  
Despite herself, and despite the fact that she knew it to be petty—selfish even, Zelda felt a vine of bitterness and jealousy wind around her heart at the thought. Link was his own person, and he was free to love whomever he wanted. She didn’t own him just because he was her appointed knight. She wanted him to be happy. So why did the idea of him and Mipha together cause her so much distress?  
  
She knew. Truthfully she’d known a while but hadn’t been willing to face it; and right now, in light of this recent revelation especially, she refused to acknowledge what was growing deep down in her heart. Right now, it didn’t matter. Right now she needed to focus on Link and his feelings, not her own petty jealousies. Just as he’d been there for her, she too would be there for him. No matter how much it hurt.  
  
And she tried not to think about how, really, Mipha’s death was her fault.  
  
Feeling Link’s tremors beginning to ease, Zelda slowly pulled herself away, feeling his arms loosen as she placed just enough distance between them to see his face. His eyes were puffy and errant tears had smeared across his cheeks. Her heart wrenched at the sight. Raising a gloved hand, she gently ran her thumb across each cheek, wiping away the moisture. He shut his eyes at the gesture, raising his own hand and placing it gently atop hers, stilling her movements.  
  
She bit her lip gently, wishing desperately to sink into this moment of stillness that had settled between them—to simply enjoy the feeling of his hand atop hers; but... she had to know. Bracing herself for his answer, she softly asked the questions she both urgently needed answered, and desperately wanted to avoid.  
  
“Did you know she felt this way?”  
  
Without speaking and without opening his eyes, he shook his head. She gathered her courage.  
  
“Did… did you love her in return?”  
  
Zelda waited with baited breath but his answer was not forthcoming. Letting go of her hand, he slowly pulled himself away, then stood and walked to the water’s edge; all without meeting her gaze. She watched him go, her heart sinking more than she wanted to admit. He had loved her, then.  
  
Link spoke lowly, his tone aching. She almost didn’t hear him over the water.  
  
“She sacrificed herself without a second thought: for her people, for Hyrule… for me…” He trailed off as she stood, listening attentively, “She was always there for me, always healed me when I did something stupid and got myself hurt. She never judged, never scolded. She just… cared.”  
  
Zelda walked slowly towards him. She could see him struggling for words as he gazed down at the object in his hands.  
  
“She gave me everything.” His grip on the armor tightened and his voice became weak. “And I gave her—have given her… nothing…”  
  
Slowly she stepped up to the waters edge beside him, watching him gaze out at the waters of the Domain. He shut his eyes tightly and ran a hand down his face as a tear leaked from under his eyelid.  
  
“What kind of person am I?” he whispered.  
  
Zelda felt a swooping sensation of relief. He… he hadn’t loved her… then immediately felt the harsh sting of guilt. She shouldn’t be happy about this! He was hurting so badly, and all she could do was feel overjoyed his heart didn’t belong to another. What kind of person was she?  
  
Shaking her head to rid herself of her troublesome thoughts, she refocused on the man beside her—and the issue at hand.  
  
“Link… you’ve done nothing wrong by not returning Mipha’s feelings. You cannot help the way you feel.”  
  
Link suddenly turned on her, shaking the armor in front of him, eyes angry once again.  
  
“She wasn’t trying to invite me to dinner, Zelda, she wanted to MARRY me,” he growled, before turning from her and walking to the opposite end of the sand bar, “You wouldn’t understand,” he murmured angrily under his breath.  
  
Though his tone stirred the hurt already simmering quietly inside of her, she ignored it and followed after him, answering with a surprising amount of calm. “I understand quite well, actually.” He turned an angry glance on her, but remained silent.  
  
“Mipha was a princess; I am a princess. And marriage for a Princess is not a simple matter.” Link didn’t respond, but the anger in his gaze had faded when he once more chanced a glance at her. She took that as a cue to continue.  
  
“Link…” she sighed softly, “I have had noblemen from across four nations approach my father to secure an arranged marriage with me, for themselves or their sons, since before I could speak. Thankfully, unlike some Kings of the past, he had the good sense to refuse and allow me the choice of who I would one day wed.  
  
“But even still… I have obligations to Hyrule which limit my choices. Whoever I marry must be of noble blood or noble heart; they must possess the fortitude and skill to rule by my side; whether I want to or not, I must some day bear children to carry on my blood line. And, Goddess forbid, I cannot find the man of my choosing before I become too old to bear a child, I must find someone to marry anyway who can give me an heir.”  
  
She chanced a glance up at Link and found him gazing at her intently.  
  
“Mipha was a Princess, and the heir to the Zora throne. Though the Zora tend to be somewhat more relaxed about marriage and put a greater emphasis on love over lineage than Hylians historically have, she too had similar considerations to make.” Zelda turned to Link, voice softening. “I have no doubt her ultimate desire was to have you by her side. But Mipha was strong, and kind, and understanding—and I have no doubt that she would have managed if you were honest with her about how you felt. I suspect she valued your friendship too highly to simply throw it away because you did not feel the same. Whether it was as her husband or her closest friend, Mipha wanted you in her life; and you gave her that,” she finished gently.  
  
Link gazed at her for several silent moments before turning to stare sadly down at the armor in his hands as he rubbed his thumb gently over the sparkling white scale at its center.  
  
“The King told me he would always think of me as a son,” he said lowly. The comment struck her as rhetorical and Link seemed lost in thought as he stared at the armor, so she remained silent. Finally, he sighed, lowering his hand and looking away.  
  
“I don’t know…” he said wearily, “Even if I had felt the same, I’m not ready for marriage. I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a Prince-Consort, let alone a King-Consort if it ever came to that. I feel like I’m somehow cheating the King by letting him think I might have accepted.” He paused, gazing out at the water with thoughtful eyes, mulling over something in his mind. “But maybe… maybe I could have… for her…” He trailed off, then sighed again, rubbing an eye with the palm of his free hand, voice desperate and confused, “Din, I don’t know…”  
  
Zelda felt her heart twist. Gently, she grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face her.  
  
“Link… you can’t get lost in what could have happened. You will drive yourself mad if you keep asking, ‘What if’?” She offered a self-deprecating smile. “Trust me, I know. I’ve done much of that over the course of my training, and it only ever made me feel worse.  
  
“What has happened has happened and it cannot be changed. And… for what it is worth—I am so sorry.” She let out a soft sigh, briefly closing her eyes before returning her gaze to him. Gently, she grabbed his hand, the one which clutched the armor, lifting it slowly to rest against his chest just over his heart.  
  
“Keep her close. Think of her often. And remember: she would want you to keep living, to lead a good, happy life—despite her passing.”  
  
Link closed his eyes, taking several deep, ragged breaths before his breathing slowly evened out. As he opened his eyes he nodded, a ghost of a smile alighting upon his face. He then let out a final release of breath before turning to look critically out over the water.  
  
“It’s getting late. I’m sorry I stayed out this long. You should get some rest, we’ll be rising early tomorrow.”  
  
Zelda smiled softly, accepting the change in subject to mean that Link had, at least to some degree, found his footing. True closure, she knew, would take time.  
  
“You, too,” She reminded gently, stepping back and turning her head towards the ladder. “After you?”  
  
He nodded, draping the armor over his shoulder as he headed towards it.  
  
Once Link had made it a few feet above her head, Zelda reached for a rung, then suddenly stopped. The hairs on the back of her neck raised as the overwhelming sensation of being watched prickled her skin. Turning slowly to glance behind her, she jumped, voice caught in her throat and eyes widening at the sight before her.  
  
Hovering silently over the water some five feet from the shore line, translucent and glowing an ethereal blue, was Mipha. She wore a sad but tender smile, gazing at Zelda kindly. Heart beating a thunderous rhythm in her chest and mind racing to understand how this could be, she was pulled from her shock by the soft, gentle tones of Mipha’s voice echoing in her mind.  
  
“Thank you, Princess. Please, take care of him for me. He always was so reckless.”  
  
Zelda simply stared for several moments, heart racing; then, dumbly, she nodded. Mipha smiled just a little bit brighter.  
  
Then, without another word, she vanished.


	22. Secrets and Subterfuge

Traysi pulled her cloak tighter around her as a gust whipped across the bridge, blowing her hood back. Hurriedly she pulled a shivering arm out from the warm confines of the woolen fabric and reached around to pull it back over her head. The full moon cast the land in sharp relief, and though it was unlikely the few survivors from the village would be about this time of night, let alone crossing the Carok Bridge, she wasn’t about to take any chances.

  
Ahead the skull cave began to take shape in the shadows of the Breach. She was close. If the rumors proved to hold any water, any at all, this would be… huge. Bigger, maybe, than even her account of the battle for Hyrule. It had been generations since any significant political misdeeds—the Hyrules were generally rule followers; but every hot streak must end some time.

As her feet traded sturdy wood for dusty earth, her heart began to beat harder against her chest. This was it—the moment of truth. Giddy excitement welled within her, adding a skip to her step—but she quickly stamped it out. Pausing briefly in her stride, she shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Calm down, Traysi! Overeagerness will only lead to mistakes. Keep your head! Picking up her feet again she walked forward with greater calm, clutching the note with the meeting location and date tightly in her chilled fingers.

  
As the mouth of the cave loomed, she could see a faint green glow emanating from within. Clearing her throat, she stepped into the shadows and lowered her hood.

“Hello?” she called softly, heart thumping in contrast to her even tones. Her eyes darted quickly around the dark cave before settling on the source of the dim light: three sunset fireflies, trapped in a jar resting on the dirt floor. Clever.

Neither seeing nor hearing any response, she tried again, louder this time. “Hello? Is anyone in here? I’m the reporter from the Rumor Mill.”

Slowly, a face began to appear from out of the shadows on the opposite wall, bathed in the green glow of the bottled fireflies as the individual moved towards the center of the room. Squinting, she could make out a clean-cut middle-aged man, but not much more could be determined from where she stood by the mouth of the cave. Slowly, he smiled—a gesture which unexpectedly unnerved her as he lifted a hand to beckon her forth, speaking in a raspy voice.

“Ah, yes, I’ve been waiting. Come.”

Cautiously, Traysi stepped forward towards the bottle, pulling forth her journal and pen from a pouch at her waist. Once she was standing across from him over the light of the fireflies, she summoned her courage and dove in, speaking in a professional clip.  
  
“I was told you may have information regarding the King. I have heard several rumors that not all is as it seems, and that the official statement may not be true.”  
  
He chuckled, lifting a hand to rub his chin with deliberate slowness.  
  
“Right to the point, eh? Well then. Yes… yes, I do.”  
  
His tone seemed to change to one of concern as he lowered his voice and peered momentarily out the mouth of the cavern. Traysi leaned forward, trying to disguise her eagerness as she began her questioning.  
  
“First things first, then. Who are you, and on what authority do you make your claims?”  
  
He eyed her with a touch of humor. “I’d rather keep my name to myself if its all the same to you; but you can call me Charlee. I’m a butler in the castle, and my claims are not simply claims, but the truth—and I have the documents to prove it.”  
  
Traysi arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? Well… Tell me—why have we seen neither hide nor hair of the king in over a month? Such a length of time would surely indicate he is far more seriously injured than the castle’s statement would have us believe. What has happened to the King? And why is the council so eager to obfuscate the truth?”  
  
Charlie leaned closer, speaking in a whisper.  
  
“The King is far more seriously injured than the castle would have you believe. The King is in a coma, and his chances of recovery are slim to none. Personally I think the council has been holding on to a hope against hope that he will wake, but the castle healers have all but said such a possibility is unlikely at this point.”  
  
Traysi dropped her pen, her jaw dropping as she stared at “Charlee” with wide eyes. Comatose! Few methods existed to treat such an ailment. He may as well be dead! But what did this mean? Why hide it? Why not just crown the Princess and be done with it? Were they hiding something? Trying to cover something up?  
  
But before she could voice her questions, Charlee pulled forth a rolled scroll from the inside of his cloak, extending it forward.  
  
“That is a page from the recorded minutes of the council meeting in which their course of action was decided. Of particular interest to you are these paragraphs,” He then indicated to several points along the document. “I can’t let you keep it, of course, but feel free to peruse.”  
  
Still reeling, Traysi reached forward, unrolling the paper and kneeling to better read it by the dim light of the fireflies. The royal seal was stamped at the top, and cramped cursive covered the page.  
  
_“…blow to the head has rendered him comatose…”_  
_“…tried many of our most reliable methods…”_  
_“…do not know if or when he will ever wake…”_  
_“…unknown what condition his mind will be in if he does…”_  
_“…Princess will need several more weeks before achieving full recovery…”_  
_“…keep this official change in leadership publicly unofficial…”_  
_“…nearly one quarter of fighting forces and half of the military leadership lost…”_  
_“Hyrule Military without a General…”_  
_“Security for the Princess of utmost concern…”_  
  
… …  
  
Shit! Things were a lot worse than anyone knew. Her head was spinning with each new revelation. This went so much deeper than just the King—the whole kingdom was hanging by a thread.  
  
“I… but—why? Why would the council lie? Why…”  
  
“They do have some reasonable concerns,” Charlee explained, “They’re worried about revealing the depth of Hyrule’s weakness to potential enemies, and worried about keeping order when there are so many desperate refugees and so few soldiers to keep the peace.” He quirked an eyebrow, speaking conspiratorially, “But, honestly, I think what they’re really all concerned about is the Princess.”  
  
Traysi gawped. “The Princess? What… what about her?”  
  
“Well… she’s young. She’s inexperienced. Until now she’s largely been a figurehead, entirely focused on awakening her power. She’s got little formal training in politics and law, and she’s just had a wrecked kingdom handed to her and been told to fix it. The Council is worried—and I am too—that she can’t do the job. But she’s all we’ve got, short of a revolution, and I certainly don’t want that.”  
  
Leaning forward once more, Charlee reached out and and gently plucked the scroll from Traysi’s loose grasp as she continued to stare in disbelief at her informant. This was… way more than she’d bargained for.  
  
“The Kingdom is in dire straits and though the Princess is well intentioned, she’s just… not enough, at least on her own. The council is guiding her and we all know what a bunch of crackpots are on the council; they’re going about this all wrong. They shouldn’t have lied to the people about their King, for starters. That sort of secrecy fosters a toxic political environment and threatens to ruin any trust between the people and the monarchy. They should have crowned her as soon as it became clear the King was not likely to recover.  
  
“And secondly, the council should be pushing the Princess to marry, not organize funerals, as lovely as it was. Though there are few eligible suitors her age, there are some—Lord Freder Lynnhurst, for example. She needs someone to share the burden of leadership with—someone more experienced, and she needs to continue her line lest, Goddess forbid, something should happen to her. And something is a lot more likely to happen to her with Hyrule’s military in the state its in.”  
  
Traysi gaped for several moments after Charlie finished his raspy screed, before snapping her mouth shut and attempting to compose herself.  
  
“Well, that’s… quite a lot. But if you don’t mind my asking…” Traysi narrowed her eyes as she considered her informant over the light of the fireflies. “How did a simple castle butler come to be so… well versed in politics?”  
  
Instead of becoming defensive as she’d anticipated, Charlee merely laughed, “I’ll say one thing—I’m no spring chicken. I’ve been in service to the castle a long time. You learn a thing or two along the way.”  
  
Still, she was skeptical. It must have shown on her face because Charlie’s humor was quickly replaced by exasperation.  
  
“Look—I’m committing an offense that risks life imprisonment and possible execution; and the reason why is because I care for Hyrule and am worried a foolish council will steer an inexperienced monarch in the wrong direction. No one seems to have the mind to do anything about it, since they’re all worried about other things—and understandably so, there’s a lot going on. I’m merely hoping that maybe some pubic scrutiny will spur the Princess and the Council towards a better course of action. She needs a crown and a husband—that is what the council should be focusing on right now, not this wishy-washy political feel-goodery.”  
  
Traysi eyed her informant critically over the faint green glow of the fireflies. His story seemed solid… and the document was genuine for sure. Even if he had an ulterior motive, the facts were on paper—and that was, at the very least, something she could make use of.  
  
“Alright, Charlee.” Pulling out her notebook and pen, she flipped to a blank page and gestured to him. “Let’s start again from the beginning.”  
  
Charlie smiled.

  
  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
  
Almost an hour later he watched her go, cloaking himself in shadow as he released a heavy sigh. Once she was out of sight he stepped away from the mouth of the cave, back into its dark interior, leaning heavily against the stone wall as he released his hold on the magic which hid him. In a puff his hair turned from graying, curly brown to smooth silver, his eyes from bright green to dark gray. He was dressed once more in his Sheikah Garb, and his clothing weighed heavily upon his frame—a reminder of his duty, and the manner in which he had betrayed it.  
  
Goddess, he didn’t want to do this anymore; he didn’t want to be this kind of person, anymore.  
  
Pulling on a silver chain around his neck, he drew forth a large circular locket from beneath his clothes. Slipping his finger along the catch, he popped it open, angling the locket’s interior to catch the faint moonlight. Three smiling faces shone up at him. On one side, a minute painting of a beautiful young Sheikah woman, smiling with unreserved kindness, her dark eyes crinkling at the edges. On the other, a painting of two young girls, one of them two and a half years, the other barely over six months. The older held the younger with the joyful pride of a recently-minted older sibling, arms tightly wrapped around the chubby infant who gazed at the painter with wide, curious eyes.  
  
His eyes lingered on the young woman, feeling a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Arame,” he whispered, running a finger along the side of the frame. He had failed her, and he’d never felt more ashamed of that fact than he did right now. She had always seen the best in him, even when he’d been a member of the Yiga. She’d never lost faith in the man she believed he could be. It was because of her—her strength and her faith—that he’d had the courage to leave the clan, even under threat of death.  
  
Dorian had spent three joyful years in Kakariko with her, striving to leave that past behind. He had taken up a job as a member of the village guard—following a path of goodness and service to his community in an effort to make up for the faults of his youth—to be the man she believed he could be, the man she deserved. She had born him two beautiful daughters, Koko and, not long after, Cottla—and his little family had become the center of his universe. For a while, everything had been perfect. Life had been a dream.  
  
And then he’d awoken—and reality had devastated him.  
  
The Yiga had found him and his family. One night on patrol around the edge of the village, he’d sensed a Yiga footman hiding in the shadows, and with shaking hands gripping his Katana had called him forth. He’d appeared, laughing, demanding his return to the Yiga clan. Dorian had refused, had charged him, making to kill the man before he could escape—but it was too late. With a last laugh, he’d whispered, “So be it…” and disappeared.  
  
That morning as he’d returned to the village at the end of his shift, eager to hold his family and reassure himself everything would be okay—they could move, he could change his name, just keep running until the Yiga couldn’t find them. But before he could get home, they head of the village guard pulled him aside and broke the news. A Sheikah woman had been found hanging by the neck from a tree in the woods. They had ruled it an apparent suicide, as there had been no evidence of a struggle, no other wounds upon the body. A part of him knew, the moment he’d been pulled aside, but it didn’t truly hit him till they said her name. “Dorian, I’m so sorry—It’s Arame…”  
  
He had gone to pieces, then.  
  
No one else knew, but he did. It wasn’t a suicide, it was a murder. It had been the Yiga, punishing him for deserting their ranks. But what could he do—what could he say? No one knew of his past, and none could know. So, despite the pain and the insult of it, he’d let them all think she’d died by her own hand.  
  
He didn’t know what to tell his girls. Koko was old enough, she seemed to understand, if her mournful eyes and hollow voice were any indication. But Cottla… she was too young, and the concept of death was lost on her. She kept asking when Momma would be home, and where she had gone. It had taken every last ounce of his strength not to break down at her innocent queries, but instead tell her softly, “Momma’s not coming home, sweetheart.”  
  
In the weeks after her death he was plagued with paranoia, fearing the Yiga’s return at every footstep and in every shadow. Would they come for his girls next? Would they come for him? He quit his job as a member of the village guard, so he could stay up night after night to watch over his girls as they slept, unaware of the danger they could be in. He was falling apart, he knew it—even the townsfolk had started to notice, though they chalked it up merely to grief. And then, finally, after three weeks of this vigil, they came.  
  
He felt them in the shadows, two of them—foot soldiers. Like before he called them forth, and they appeared, arms crossed in amusement as they took in his exhausted, rumpled appearance.  
  
“Have you had enough? Are you ready to return to the clan?”  
  
“Never,” he’d spat.  
  
“We will kill your children next,” they responded tauntingly, “We will keep going, until there is nothing left to keep you here.”  
  
“I won’t let you,” he’d growled, but their words had pierced him like ice through his heart. He couldn’t keep this up—he was exhausted, and he needed to work as they were running out of money, yet he couldn’t bear to let his girls out of his sight for fear they too would be taken from him. And the Yiga knew this—knew they need only wait.  
  
They laughed. “This was your last chance. You will see us again…”  
  
And then they disappeared, and he dissolved into sobs on the floor, his Katana hitting the ground with a clatter.  
  
Another week came and went, and he found himself on the verge of collapse. He was horrendously sleep deprived, seeing phantom visions and hearing phantom sounds, scarcely able to tell reality from dream. He was still grieving over the loss of his beloved, unable to hold back his anguished sobs when the lonely nights and his empty bed became too much.  
  
And then, one day when he felt certain he could take no more, salvation came. A nobleman passed through town—a young man named Freder—who had somehow come to know of his plight. He offered him a deal: his service for the protection of his children. In exchange for his unquestioning loyalty and discretion, he would not only pay him handsomely for services to his family, but secure him a job in the castle guard and provide two nannies, one for each of his daughters—both well educated and trained in the art of combat and self defense—to care for and guard his girls in Kakariko. Desperate, he agreed, feeling as though, finally, the Goddesses were smiling upon him.  
  
It had been a Devil’s bargain.  
  
At first things had been good. He’d been given a job as a member of the Sheikah royal guard, and after several months of training, he began his duties. He enjoyed his work, even if he missed Koko and Cottla terribly; but he felt reassured knowing they were taken care of and in good hands. The nannies had proven wonderful, and he received almost daily letters from the girls telling him about all the things they were learning from the village tutor, and the new recipes Koko was working to create—just like her mother. On his time off, he would return to Kakariko to visit with them, and for a while it felt as though, perhaps, he could finally put it all behind him.  
  
But this peace was not to last. It started innocuously, things that at first didn’t seem like such offenses—favors, almost, for the man who had offered him such salvation. Freder wanted to know how things were going in the castle—about the Princess, about the other council members, about the King. He asked about the latest gossip, things he may have overheard while on duty in the halls. It seemed… perhaps odd, but not outrightly wrong. But his requests began to slowly escalate, become more sinister. He was asked to spread false rumors, intentionally eavesdrop on officials, relay confidential security plans… When Freder finally requested he steal a document from the King’s study, he put his foot down. He had not fought so hard to leave the Yiga—to become a better man—only to begin a new life of crime somewhere else.  
  
When next Freder came to the castle, he arranged a discreet meeting in the docks, and confronted him about his illicit requests.  
  
“I did not agree to become a criminal!” He hissed, hands clenched at his sides, “Any other work—honest work—I am happy to do. But not this!”  
  
Freder only eyed him cooly. “If you are displeased with our arrangement, I can always terminate your employ and recall your daughter’s nannies—I cannot, however, assure that you will keep your position in the Royal guard… and of course, I cannot assure you that your daughters will be safe from the Yiga.” He smirked as Dorian’s face paled, knowing full well he had won.  
  
Dorian didn’t refuse his requests after that.  
  
Almost as though the Gods were taunting him for his foolishness, Freder’s demands quickly got worse. He obeyed them all, each time trying to justify to himself that his daughters’ safety was worth the moral sacrifice. Slowly but surely, he began to see exactly what it was he had become, and why Freder had shown up when he had: he was a spy—Freder’s spy—within the castle. He had used him, sought him out—a desperate man willing to sell his soul for peace of mind and a shred of safety—and offered him a deal he couldn’t refuse.  
  
It was a smooth system of corruption and deception. He provided Freder with information, and Freder used this information to set into motion his own schemes and plots, utilizing Dorian’s unique stealth abilities as a Sheikah and ex-Yiga to do so. He stole documents, planted rumors and ideas, manipulated the staff, worked into the confidences of officials to gather information… So slowly that he almost hadn’t realized it, he was back where he started. Though he wasn’t a  member of the Yiga clan anymore, he was doing just as much ill. Freder was not a good man; who knew how many people he was hurting doing his bidding?  
  
He snapped the locket shut, tucking it back under his shirt with a determined furrow of his brow. This latest scheme was the last straw. He was now helping Freder meddle in affairs that would affect the future of Hyrule, and the future of the Princess herself. It was obvious what Freder was trying to do—position himself as the most likely suitor when the time came.  
  
He had loved his wife with all his heart; she had been his light and his strength—his whole world. He would not push an evil man into the Princess’ life—would not be the reason she got stuck in a painful, loveless marriage. After everything she had been through, she above all deserved to know the happiness he had so fleetingly felt with Arame.  
  
Most of all, though, he would not put a tyrant on Hyrule’s throne.  
  
He had done enough damage, had fallen far enough into Freder’s inner circle that he could use his knowledge as leverage to escape their bargain. He would think of something, some way to protect Koko and Cottla. If he had to wax his body, stuff his chest, and pretend to be a woman to hide with his girls in the renowned safety of Gerudo Town, he would. This couldn’t go on. He would be the man Arame always believed he could be. He would not let her down any longer.  
  
With hardened eyes and a set jaw he pulled away from the wall, walking towards the center of the room to grab the jar of fireflies. With a puff, Dorian disappeared, the dim light of the fireflies fading, leaving the cave once more in darkness.


	23. Reckless

****  
  
The sun had barely risen, hidden behind the rocky mountains surrounding the Domain and casting the city in pale blue morning light. Zelda had slept fitfully, waking several times in the night from unremembered dreams. She had been up for some time, now, had already packed her last bag and dressed in her royal riding attire, awaiting the hour to depart. She passed the time in a daze, seated upon the edge of her bed, staring at the wall with faraway eyes as her thoughts cycled through the past several days. It had been a difficult visit.  
  
She had always known there must be more to Link than met the eye. Though he acted in his role as Knight and Champion with bravery and solemnity, so too did she—and there had always been far more roiling beneath the surface than her calm and collected exterior would suggest. Perhaps that had been why she never bought his stoic facade. And though she had wanted for so long to know what ran beneath those calm waters, to see his true self as her true self had become revealed to him, she had not been prepared for what happened beneath the city.  
  
She had come to trust him in a way she trusted few others. She felt, for the first time in her life, she could simply be with someone—not a princess, not the vessel of the Goddess’ power, but just Zelda; and right when she had let herself relax into that freedom, he had lashed out—bitten her like a rabid dog, heedless and unaware of its actions. The shock had drawn forth that old wall she always put between herself and the world to keep the barbs at bay—the wall that kept her isolated and alone; the one she’d worked so hard over the past many months to tear down.  
  
She knew he didn’t mean it. He had apologized immediately after, and she’d never seem him so contrite about anything. He hadn’t been lashing out at her, specifically, but at the circumstances—latching on to whatever or whoever he could blame and direct his pain towards; just as she had done, but towards herself. Logically, she understood, she forgave, and wanted to help him through his pain.  
  
But… it had hurt.  
  
Glancing at the clock, she sighed. The time for Link to fetch her was nearing. She awaited the telltale knock on her door, her mind absently spinning in circles as she waited; but the door remained silent. As the minutes ticked by and the sky outside her windows lightened, her fingers knotted themselves in her lap in worry. Was he perhaps avoiding her? Link was always punctual—often early, even. She couldn’t entirely blame him, though, if he was. A part of her wasn’t sure she was ready to face him again either.  
  
However, despite Link’s eruption the night prior and his looming morning arrival, he wasn’t the only thing occupying her weary mind. Her vision of Mipha hovering ethereally above the waterline would not leave her. She knew her grandmother had heard the voices of the spirit realm, but neither she nor her mother had ever mentioned actually seeing the lingering spirits of the dead. As best she could guess, Mipha must have had unfinished business keeping her tethered to the mortal plane. Perhaps she had wanted to ensure Link received her gift? But if so, why did she not depart for the Sacred Realm when her father had presented Link with the armor? No, that reasoning did not fit.  
  
Which left her with one unsettling conclusion: Mipha had wanted to ensure he was looked after. She had assented to Mipha’s request partly out of shock and partly because it had felt natural to do so. In the aftermath of the calamity she and Link seemed to have somehow navigated themselves rather naturally into the very position of caring for one another. But now that she’d had time to think about, she was beginning to wonder just what she’d gotten herself into.  
  
By the simple action of nodding her head, she had pledged to take care of Link in her stead, to do that which the Zora Princess could do no longer. She couldn’t deny or disrespect the final wish of her friend and champion. But Mipha was right—he was reckless. Looking after him would be no easy task, especially when he was tasked with protecting her. How would she manage to both uphold her promise to Mipha and her duty to Hyrule? She was having enough trouble with just one as it was.  
  
She had debated talking to Link about her brief interaction with Mipha’s spirit, but almost immediately threw out the idea. The Goddess only knew what his reaction would be, and the last thing she wanted to do now, while he was still so raw, was to cause more pain. And besides, a deep instinctual feeling told her Mipha didn’t want him to know—at least not yet.  
  
A knock sounded at the door, interrupting her thoughts and causing her to jump where she sat. He was late, but not terribly so; perhaps she was just nervous to see him again. She wasn’t entirely certain what to expect of his mood. He had been so crushed by yesterday’s revelation, and it had broken her heart to see him brought to his knees by grief. But the hurt lingered despite her sympathy, stinging and unresolved. She wasn’t quite sure how that would affect her ability support him, but she would do her best, regardless.  
  
Shaking herself of her thoughts, she rose from the bed and headed to the door attempting a calm, composed demeanor. Gripping the handle of the door she held her breath, opening it to see… Barlow?  
  
“Good morning, your Highness!” He greeted pleasantly, “Are you ready to meet with the King? Master Link just went to see Oran about preparing the horses for our departure, so I came to gather the last of yours bags and escort you to the central plaza.”  
  
Zelda nodded, releasing her breath and feeling an unexpected disappointment wash over her. So he was avoiding her. Well… nothing to do about it now. Plastering an uncomfortable smile on her face, she nodded and stepped aside for him to enter. He did so, quickly grabbing her last pack and following her out the door.  
  
King Dorephan and the young prince stood in the center of the central plaza, gazing up at the statue of Mipha with sad eyes. Though the sun was just starting to peek over the mountains, it was early and the domain quiet and still, most of its inhabitants still asleep or only just starting their morning routines. A crisp breeze tousled her hair as she approached the two, adjusting her smile to, hopefully, look a little less forced as she greeted them.  
  
“Good morning King Dorephan, Prince Sidon.” As she came to stand before them, she offered a polite bow of her head.  
  
“Ah, Princess.” The King turned, his large bulk nearly hiding the large statue from view as he grasped her hand and shook it. “Thank you for coming to our humble Domain, and thank you for bestowing such honors upon my dear Mipha. Your thoughtfulness and your kindness will be remembered.”  
  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Link approaching up the promenade, and felt her heart beat just a little faster as he caught her eye, then abruptly turned his gaze. Refocusing on the King, she offered a small smile. “Of course, your Grace. Your daughter deserves every honor I am capable of bestowing.”  
  
The king sniffled at her words, his eyes watering though he did not cry. Sidon, however, allowed his tears to silently flow where he stood beside his father. Spurred by the sight of the young prince’s sorrow, she knelt and wordlessly extended her arms. Without preamble Sidon rushed forward and hugged her fiercely, and she wrapped her arms around the young boy tightly. After a moment the boy pulled back, a bashful blush coloring his cheeks. Zelda smiled, feeling a little warmth stir in her heart. “Please feel free to write me, Sidon,” she said gently, cupping one rosy cheek, “I get so little correspondence, and it would be nice to hear from a friend.”  
  
Looking enthused, he nodded, stepping out of her embrace to stand by his father who eyed her fondly. Zelda rose as Link finally reached the group, and the King turned his attention to him.  
  
“Link, my boy,” he began, extending a hand and grabbing Link’s, “Remember what I said. You are always welcome here in the Domain.” He held Link’s gaze, a pointed look in his eyes and Zelda turned away, feeling out of place before such a personal moment. It wasn’t long, however, before the King released him and turned his attention back to her.  
  
“Please have a safe—” Dorephan stopped mid-sentence at the sound of Link’s sword being pulled several inches from its scabbard. Dorephan’s eyes tracked to Link with confusion as both he and Barlow had suddenly turned their attention away from the conversation and towards the distant mountains, eyes narrowed and shoulders stiff. Link’s hand gripped the pommel tightly, ready to pull it forth at a moment’s notice.  
  
Zelda glanced between them worriedly, looking around for the source of their concern. “Link? Link, what’s the matter?”  
  
Dorephan eyed him with concern as well, holding Sidon closer. “Link, my boy, what is it?” He turned towards the direction both guards were gazing in, squinting into the light. “What do you see?”  
  
Link didn’t immediately answer either of them, but instead turned to Barlow, speaking lowly, “Do you hear it?”  
  
Zelda looked between the two, baffled, but strained to try and hear anything out of the ordinary; yet all that reached her was the gentle rush of water flowing through the Domain.  
  
Barlow wore an uncharacteristically serious expression. He nodded and drew his bow as he answered, “Yes; but I don’t see it—yet.”  
  
Link suddenly turned to the King, sheathing his sword. “Your Highness, order everyone inside the sanctuary around the shrine, it’s the only place in the domain that—”  
  
“Say no more; I’ll see it done.” Whatever was going on, Dorephan seemed to understand as he unceremoniously picked up young Sidon and began running across the plaza, bellowing orders to his guards.  
  
Link then turned to her, grabbing her hand and leading her hurriedly around the statue. “Princess, you need hide as well.” Zelda’s gut twisted. What was going on? He avoids her all morning and then… this? As Link practically dragged her towards the stairs leading to the sanctuary, her mounting fear and confusion and frustration clashed into an anxious frenzy. What was so urgent? What did they see that she could not?!  
  
“Stay hidden inside the shrine until I come and get you, it’s the only place in the Domain that—”  
  
Wrenching her hand free she finally found her footing, planting her feet firmly and staring at him with consternation. “Link, what is going on? What’s out there? What do you hear?!” Reaching for her hand again, he attempted to pull her down the steps but she held her ground, pulling her hand free once more. His expression turned from one of seriousness to one of almost annoyance as he reached for her again.  
  
“Princess, please! It’s a Wizzrobe. You need to stay hidden, the Domain is extremely vulnerable…” his words trailed off as a soft tinkling sound began to echo around the plaza, and she felt her stomach drop. A wizzrobe?! She’d never encountered one before, but her texts made them out to be horribly dangerous. What in the world was one doing in the domain?  
  
Without further complaint, she allowed Link to lead her into the sanctuary.  
  
She glanced anxiously over her shoulder as she descended the steps, not slowing her pace. She could hear muffled shouts beyond piercing the morning stillness, but couldn’t distinguish any words. “But what is it doing here? I thought they were only found in unsettled territories!”  
  
Link didn’t answer, depositing her on the circular platform of the shrine. Zora were filing hurriedly into the sanctuary, some still drowsy but all of them confused and scared. Link gently grabbed her by the shoulders, pinning her wide, roaming gaze under serious blue eyes.  
  
“Stay here. Barlow and I will take care of it—we’ve both fought them before. Do not leave until I come for you. Understand?”  
  
Dumbly Zelda nodded, feeling her chest tighten. Mipha’s words briefly floated through her mind as she gazed warily into his serious eyes, already hardening for battle. Biting her lip gently, she lifted a hand to his arm as he turned, squeezing gently as she held his gaze meaningfully.  
  
“Please be careful, Link,” she whispered.  
  
He offered a faint smile and a nod, then swiftly turned and ran up the stairs.

  
  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
  
Barlow had taken up position on the opposite side of the plaza when Link returned to the open air. He looked worried as he glanced towards him, bow held aloft.  
  
“It’s a Thunder Wizzrobe!” he shouted over the hubbub, pointing east, “I caught sight of it briefly before it turned invisible.” Inwardly Link swore. It was the worst kind of Wizzrobe to attack the domain. “It’s still pretty high up, though, I don’t think I’ll get a good shot unless we can draw it closer.”  
  
Link nodded, running towards the Promenade and turning for a clearer view beyond the fish tail. Dancing along the stone of the domain he could periodically see a shadow, and the ripple of the Wizzrobe’s footsteps in the air as it slowly circled the domain high above, moving towards its center. Barlow was right, it was too high up to get a clean shot, and if past experience were any indication, it probably wasn’t coming down any closer to the ground unless it had to.  
  
As he tracked its footsteps, the Wizzrobe suddenly reappeared, holding aloft its thunder rod and swinging it around wildly. A shrill cry echoed off the stone and the bright morning light began to fade, giving way to ominous, dark storm clouds. Thunder boomed and echoed off the cliff sides, and a few startled cries could be heard from within the sanctuary. It was summoning a thunderstorm. However, Link paid it little heed, turning and jogging over to where Barlow stood with his bow angled skyward and his eyes slanted and sharp.  
  
“Barlow, I’m making for higher ground. Keep the central plaza clear and protect the sanctuary.” Wordlessly, Barlow nodded, his nocked bow tracking the Wizzrobe as it continued to flail wildly high in the air. The sky had darkened until it was almost completely black, any lingering traces of morning light all but gone. Link turned, running up the stairs as he made for the throne room. The giant fish tail which rose high above the Domain had been carved with thousands of small shelves to affect the appearance of scales creating perfect handholds.  
  
When he was younger, he had climbed the tail out of a desire to view the whole of the majestic domain. Now he was climbing it for much the same reason, but for an entirely different purpose. Checking to make sure his weapons were affixed securely to his back, he hopped up onto the side railing and grabbed at a nook in the carved design, pulling himself up one of the pillars flanking the throne room’s entrance.  
  
The Wizzrobe wouldn’t come to them, so Link would just have to go to it.

  
  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
  
Barlow was no stranger to fighting wizzrobes. Back during the electric keese crisis in the Domain a decade ago they’d discovered the source of the problem to be a young electric wizzrobe hiding in the mountains. It seemed to be experimenting with its powers, summoning the swarms of electric keese which had been plaguing Zora’s Domain; and, as luck would have it, once the electric wizzrobe was discovered it began its transformation into a thunder wizzrobe and rained electrified chu-chu’s and keese upon them like, well, rain. It had been a grueling battle—a siege almost, but the wizzrobe had been conquered in the end. This one would be no different.  
  
Though the wind began to pick up he kept his bow nocked and angled towards the sky, on the off-chance that the monster came within shooting range. Sparing a quick glance out the corner of his eye, he saw Link hugging the base of the giant stone fish tail, slowly working his way high above the domain. His eyes widened. The kid was going to climb to the top in the middle of a storm to be high enough to get in a clean shot! Barlow had to suppress a chuckle. Damned fearless, foolish kid; though he knew, if anyone could pull it off, it would be Link.  
  
A loud crack echoed throughout the Domain and a gust of wind whipped at his tunic, but Barlow did not waver. Returning his focus to the wizzrobe above, he noticed it had stopped waving its thunder rod around wildly, and turned its attention to him. The creature’s large, menacing yellow eyes assessed him from beneath its white hood, a sinister grin growing broader as it took two tinkling steps in his direction. Barlow stiffened, holding his bow steady. With a cackle, the wizzrobe waved its rod in a circular pattern, and with a popping sound a large swarm of electric keese appeared out of thin air, flying straight towards him. The wizzrobe cackled again, and with another circular motion summoned several small electric chu-chus, which dropped heavily from the sky right into the central plaza. With a twirl, the wizzrobe disappeared, the only evidence of its presence the faint tinkling sound of its invisible footsteps.  
  
Barlow cursed. Throwing down his bow, he pulled his sword from its sheath, tightly gripping the shock-resistant Sheikah wrappings he’d had commissioned for his royal broadsword years ago, and grateful his paranoia had finally paid off. He kept his eyes on the Keese, as their speed exceeded that of the slow-moving chu-chus. As they came in range, he gripped the handle of his sword tighter, tracking the movements of the swarm. With an almighty shout, he twisted the handle of his sword, smacking the lead keese with the flat of his blade and sending it crashing into others alongside it and sending them bouncing to the ground, shuddering before releasing a small explosion of electricity and falling still.  
  
It was a little-known trick he’d learned years back—avoid their electric discharge upon death by all means possible, or you’ll find yourself rooted to the spot by electric shock as the rest of the swarm attacked to kill. And the best way to do that was for them to die as far away from you as possible.  
  
Swinging his sword back in the other direction, he hit two more keese with the flat of his blade, sending them spiraling into several more of their companions and tumbling to the ground where they released their charges before falling still. But the rest of the swarm was already upon him. Leaping to the side he rolled, standing quickly and waiting for them to turn. As the swarm neared once more, he repeated the pattern, whittling the monsters down to a mere handful. With another leap and another roll, he stood, waiting for the remains of the swarm to turn and attack; but it seemed the survivors knew better than to try their luck. With a cry they turned as one, flying away towards the mountains.  
  
However Barlow didn’t have much chance to contemplate his victory as the Wizzrobe had reappeared directly above him and released a sinister, shrill cackle. Whipping his head up, he saw the creature lifting its thunder rod, stomping each foot in turn like a child having a tantrum. Suddenly light erupted from the top of the rod, sending balls of lightning exploding forth like an erupting volcano. Barlow’s heart rate quickened and as fast as his muscles would carry him he turned and ran—only to be met with a wall of electric chu-chus, barring his way. Whipping his head from side to side, he spotted his bow not far away and dove for it, narrowly avoiding a large ball of lightning as it came crashing to the ground. Gripping the handle, he rose to his knees quickly and pulled an arrow from his quiver, nocking it and sending it flying at the center chu-chu. It landed with soft noise and the chu-chu quivered briefly before exploding in a mess of electrically charged chu-chu jelly, a momentary static field surrounding where it had once been and triggering a chain reaction amongst its companions.  
  
However, Barlow did not stop to watch. As soon as the arrow had left his hand he stood and darted to the side, avoiding each ball of electricity in a mad dance for survival. Diving for the protection of the Inn, he quickly stood and lifted his bow to the sky—the Wizzrobe had gotten too close. With a smirk, Barlow pulled another arrow from his quiver and sent it flying. The arrow hit home, burrowing into the Wizzrobe’s leg. It squealed in surprise, falling backward and tumbling out of the sky and over the side of the central plaza railing towards the water. However it recovered before it hit the ground and came rising back up, higher this time as it squealed and cackled angrily, waving its thunder rod around in the air. The balls of electricity had stopped falling after he’d landed his shot, however the Wizzrobe was far from done. Waving its rod in a large arc, it summoned four giant electric chu-chus directly over the plaza, then waved it again and summoned an even larger swarm of electric keese. Barlow bit back a curse as he once more unsheathed his sword. This was going to be a long morning.

  
  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
  
Zelda’s nerves were frayed. The moment she had seen the balls of electricity falling from the sky she’d felt a hot coal burn through her stomach as her anxiety ate away at her like maggots through rotting fruit. Though logically she knew it was irrational, she felt—no, knew, somehow—that something wasn’t right. The urge to start pacing was strong within her, yet she forced herself still. She wasn’t the only one who was worried, and the people would start to panic if they saw her or Dorephan be anything but composed.  
  
As it was, Dorephan was doing what he could to keep the people calm—and likely restraining his urge to join the fray if the stories of his fierce warrior nature were anything resembling the truth. He spoke calmly, quietly, over the panicked voices of his subjects near the rear of the shrine, offering comfort and assurances of safety.  
  
Zelda had wanted to see what was going on and so had dared to get as close to the entrance as standing before the bottom step; though now she rather wished she hadn’t, as she watched balls of electricity raining from the dark sky like mini-meteors. Her hands twisted before her in agitation, worry gnawing away at her more fiercely than before.  
  
She had heard Link tell Barlow he was off to find high ground, but the fact that she knew why she couldn’t see or hear him out there fighting did nothing to ease her worries. She had promised Mipha she would take care of him, and look at her—not a day later and she’d let him off to go and fight dangerous monsters on his own. What if something happened to him?  
  
No. No, she could not think like that. Aside from the fact that it demonstrated little faith in him, it was unproductive. Closing her eyes, she forced her mind clear as she counted backwards from ten, taking deep breaths as she did so.  
  
However her meditation was interrupted by a sudden wail echoing from out in the plaza. Zelda’s eyes shot open and darted around what little of the plaza she could see; but she spotted nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the wizzrobe’s attacks, anyway. But it had sounded like… she shuddered at the thought, but it had sounded like a child.  
  
Suddenly the wail sounded again—more distinct now that the balls of electricity had stopped raining from the sky. Her heart stopped. It was a child! Distinctly she could hear crying, and it was most definitely coming from outside.  
  
Glancing quickly left and right, there were none who had dared come so near to the entrance of the sanctuary—understandably given a single direct hit would kill any Zora on the spot—and turning behind her, none of the Zora gathered at the rear of the shrine seemed to have heard. Whipping her head back to the entrance, she heard the faint crying starting anew. Someone was out there—a child no less! Her heart thudded against her chest. Link had told her to stay put, but none of the Zora could risk going out there. What should she do?  
  
“Tumbo?”  
  
Whipping her head around, she looked down to see Prince Sidon standing beside her, gazing with wide, horror-filled eyes up the steps. As the wail echoed through the plaza once again, Sidon bolted up the stairs faster than she thought possible.  
  
“TUMBO! I’M COMING!”  
  
Panic rose within her. “Sidon, No!” Reaching a hand out uselessly, Sidon ran quickly beyond her reach, clambering up the top of the stairs and out into the plaza beyond her view  
  
“Sidon, come back!” Without another thought, Zelda ran up the stairs and out into the plaza after him.  
  
As she reached the top of the stairs, she whipped her head around wildly, trying to locate him. Her heart was thundering, panic threatening to overtake her—she refused to be responsible for the death of both Zora heirs!—but she forced it down as best she could; she needed to focus. Barlow stood on the opposite side of the plaza. Four large electric chu-chus slowly advanced upon him as he fought off a mass of electric keese, slowly backing up onto the promenade as he swung his sword through the swarm. He hadn’t noticed her.  
  
“Sidon! Where are you?” She cried, looking left and right for any sign. Wind whipped her hair about her face, and as a crack of lightning illuminated the plaza, out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a red fin whipping around the corner and up the stairs leading to the throne room. Zelda ran after him, avoiding the keese and chu-chu’s notice as she darted around the corner and up a handful of stairs before nearly running into the young prince, who knelt over a young blue-skinned Zora boy covered in vicious red welts.  
  
“Tumbo, are you okay? TUMBO!”  
  
Sidon had grabbed his friend and was shaking him, tears streaming from his eyes; but the boy was incoherent, mumbling and groaning where he lay upon the steps. Zelda quickly knelt down, keenly aware of the sounds of battle echoing from where Barlow held the keese and chu-chu’s at bay. Placing her hand on Sidon’s shoulder, she turned him towards her and he yelped with surprise as he looked up at her with wide eyes.  
  
“Princess! Princess… we gotsa help him!”  
  
Zelda made the decision quickly. There would be time for chastising later—the priority was to get everyone to safety.  
  
“Sidon, I need you to return to the Sanctuary. I will get Tumbo back to safety, but you can’t stay here. Do you understand?”  
  
Sidon’s brow’s furrowed as he gazed at her angrily, shaking his head with vigor. “No! Mipha said she was counding on me to protect our home. I wanna help!” Zelda frowned, but did not argue—there wasn’t time. Overhead she could hear the angry cackling of the Wizzrobe. They needed to get back to the safety of the shrine, and soon.  
  
“Okay, but quickly now.” As she made to lift the young boy, she found her legs buckled slightly under the weight, but managed to cradle him in her arms despite. “Sidon, I need you to be my eyes—I can’t see well over his head,” she said, as she slowly took each step down the stairway with caution, “Is it safe? Are there any monsters?” Sidon held Tumbo’s hand where it hung down over her arm. He looked around with wary eyes before answering.  
  
“Misser Barlow’s holding off the monsters.”  
  
Zelda felt relieved. The boy was… surprisingly heavy. As she reached the bottom step, she heard a loud whooshing sound overhead and felt the floor beneath her shake slightly. She tried to look over the boy’s head but could only see the top of Mipha’s statue. Hiding the sudden shakiness in her voice, she asked urgently, “Sidon, what happened?”  
  
“Chu-chus! Big ones! They… they’re…” His voice shook with fear and Zelda felt her panic rise to overwhelming heights once more as her heart thundered painfully in her chest. She couldn’t dodge chu-chus, carry dead weight, and keep Sidon safe all at once! However, before she’d had a chance to contemplate a course of action she heard a whizzing noise coming from above. Glancing quickly overhead, her heart stopped. The Wizzrobe held his thunder rod up towards the heavens, stomping his feet as it glowed brilliantly, releasing balls of lightning into the sky like boulders from a volcano as rain began to fall from the dark storm clouds.  
  
“PRINCESS!”  
  
Ripping her gaze from the sight, she turned and saw Barlow gazing at her with wide, shocked eyes from the opposite side of the plaza where he stood trapped behind a wall of advancing chu-chus. In his moment of distraction, a chu-chu jumped at him, and though he returned his attention to it in time to land a hefty blow with his sword, its electrical field hit him like a ton of bricks, and even from afar she could see his muscles tense as he stood in place, rigid and covered in chu-chu jelly with his face contorted in pain as the shock held him stock-still. There was no one to help her.  
  
“Princess!” From her side she felt Sidon tug on her belt, and she knew by the panic in his voice she had to do something. Whipping her head back to the threat before her, she saw the chu-chus slowly advancing. She broke out into a sweat and her pulse spiked. She was trapped. The whizzing sound increased in volume and as she looked up towards the source of the noise once more she saw balls of lightning falling from the sky, a giant one hurtling straight towards them. Her heart stopped.  
  
Suddenly, time seemed to slow. The back of her hand began to burn, and all panic left her. Kneeling quickly to the ground, she set the injured boy before her and roughly pulled Sidon to her chest as she raised her right arm above her.  
  
“Avnayru!” The voice she heard didn’t quite sound like her own, though she somehow knew it to be hers. An unearthly resonance hung from the words, and the moment they left her lips she felt a warmth travel through her body and pool into her forearm. A translucent blue barrier, like a large royal knight’s shield, formed over it, hovering just above her skin. The ball of lightning struck the strange shield and she felt a gentle pressure against her arm, and then the lightning dispersed, a small electrical field expanding outward before dissipating, leaving them completely unharmed.  
  
As soon as the immediate danger had passed the magical shield faded. But more lightning was falling from the sky, and as she looked back up towards the Wizzrobe she saw it whip its rod in their direction, sending another giant ball of electricity hurtling towards them with alarming speed. They needed to get to safety—now. The burning on her hand returned once more, and she pulled both Zora boys closer against her, one in each arm.  
  
“Venfarore!” she shouted, and suddenly a violent wind whipped around them, blurring their surroundings in a flash of green light. Zelda closed her eyes against the sickening sensation as she felt sudden vertigo threaten to send her toppling. Yet as soon as it came it went, and the sensation of cold water seeping into her pants shocked the skin which knelt upon the ground.  
  
“Princess!”  
  
A cacophony of shouts echoed around her and she opened her eyes, releasing both boys who fell to the ground with a small splash. She was… back in the sanctuary? The calm that had mysteriously overtaken her dissipated, and everything that had happened came crashing down around her. She gasped, feeling her latent panic wash over her as her limbs wobbled and trembled violently. She fell forward, her hands only just catching her fall. The burning sensation on the back of her right hand was gone, the cool water erasing any remnants of the mysterious heat. Dimly she was aware as Sidon crawled out from beneath her, dragging Tumbo along with him. Her eyelids felt heavy, and the shouts around her were muffled, becoming increasingly indistinct. She felt hands wrap around her shoulders and lift her upright—it was Kayden, Barlow’s friend; he was wide-eyed, his lips mouthing something she could not understand—and then, darkness overcame her.

  
  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
  
Link’s arms burned with each thrust upward, struggling to keep his grip against the wind, but he steadfastly ignored the pain; he was in sight of his goal. With a final heave he lifted himself atop the flat surface at the top of the carved fish tail, turning to rest his back against one of the fin spokes as he breathed heavily. He could hear the tinkling of the wizzrobe as it danced out of sight a bit below him, though the sounds of battle had long since been lost to the howling wind. He knew Barlow had things in hand, at least for the moment, but they needed to end this threat quickly. Wizzrobes became more dangerous the longer they survived, deteriorating your fighting conditions by summoning storms and wearing you out fighting off endless waves of lesser enemies until you became too weak to fend off its direct attacks. Barlow could only last so long down there on his own.  
  
Having caught his breath, he hefted himself upright, rolling his neck as he reached over his shoulder for his bow. He would only get one shot at this, and it had to work. Timing was key. Shuffling towards the edge of the platform, Link looked out over the Domain. Barlow stood further down the promenade fighting off chu-chus, though the Wizzrobe had yet to reappear. Searching the air below him for the telltale ripples of the creature’s footsteps, he was momentarily distracted by a tiny figure darting out from the safety of the sanctuary and making for the stairway to the throne room. What…? What were they doing?! Did they not realize how dangerous it was to be out in the op—  
  
Suddenly a second figure darted out after the first, blond hair trailing as she ran pell-mell after the red-skinned Zora. Zelda! Link’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, despite his exhausted grip, and he leaned forward just slightly trying to get a better look. Dammit, he’d told her to stay in the safety of the sanctuary! It was Calamity Ganon all over again…  
  
His hunt for the wizzrobe momentarily forgotten, he tracked her movements with sharp eyes. The young Zora had stopped before a figure lying on the ground, Zelda hot on his heels. They didn’t remain stationary for long, as Zelda quickly picked up the small blue figure in her arms, seeming to struggle under the weight, before all three turned and headed back for the sanctuary. His anger melted somewhat as he watched her careful steps, stopping at the base of the stairs momentarily and readjusting her arms. Always thinking of others before herself…  
  
Suddenly a tinkling noise caught his attention, and he ripped his gaze away from the Princess towards the source of it. There, some 30 feet below him hovering just over the center of the plaza, was the wizzrobe. His reappearance was sudden, catching Link off-guard as it began to quickly wave its thunder rod around, summoning four electric chu-chus before it in mid-air, which plummeted to the ground beside Mipha’s statue. Link’s heart leapt to his throat—Zelda was trapped.  
  
Barlow’s loud voice drew his eyes to the promenade as the man suddenly noticed Zelda’s presence. However, his momentary distraction was all that was needed for the monsters to land a hit, stunning him and leaving him twitching and writhing in place as an electric shock coursed through his body. Link’s gut twisted. There was no one to help her.  
  
The tinkling noise sounded again, and the wizzrobe began waving its rod about in the air, summoning balls of electricity and sending them hurtling towards the plaza like meteors; and Zelda was in the middle of it. But with all the electricity in the air, there was no way he could make the dive he’d intended to make. Heart galloping and panic rising within his chest, he quickly ran through his available options—but before he could make a decision, something remarkable happened.  
  
Dropping quickly to the ground, Zelda pulled the red-skinned Zora to her, raising her arm as a translucent blue shield manifested over it, causing an incoming lightning ball to hit and bounce, dissipating harmlessly into the air. However, the wizzrobe was far from done. Aiming its rod directly at the group, it ceased its electrical rain and summoned a massive ball of electricity and sent it hurtling towards them.  
  
Link’s heart stopped. There was no way they could avoid that.  
  
Without another thought he leaped off the platform with all his strength, flying through the air at an angle before gravity began to force his body plummeting towards the earth. Heart pumping wildly and wind whipping through his hair, he focused as he spread his arms and legs to slow his descent until he was positioned above the gap between the general store and the eastern pathway. The wind fought his movements as he pulled an arrow from his back and nocked his bow. Time seemed to slow as he aimed at the wizzrobe, targeting the back of its head as he let the arrow fly. In quick succession he grabbed several more, sending each of them hurtling straight at the same spot—and each hit its mark with a sickening thud, piercing its hood and staining it red. A grim smile rose to his lips—there was no way the creature could survive so many direct hits. Almost level with the central plaza, he let fly one more arrow before releasing his bow and repositioning his body for a dive, raising his arms above his head.  
  
The water rushed to meet him with startling speed and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath just before his body hit, and all sound disappeared save for the rushing of the river. Arcing his back to swim for the surface, he kicked hard, feeling his breath become thin just as his head broke the surface. Taking a gasping breath, he turned and swam for the rock bar beneath the plaza, fighting the pull of the current. He felt his chest tighten as he neared land, thoughts returning to his Princess. He may have killed the creature, but that didn’t mean he’d saved Zelda. _Goddesses let her be okay._

  
  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

  
  
Zelda awoke to find a blue-skinned Zora woman leaning over her with a scrutinizing gaze. Blinking owlishly into the face above her, the woman smiled, leaning back as she turned and spoke to the crowd around them. “She’s up! The Princess is awake!” Cheers erupted, echoing off the walls, and Zelda felt distinctly confused. What…? Though it took a moment, memories came flooding back to her, and she bolted upright, startling the Zora woman who knelt at her side.  
  
“Where is Prince Sidon? Is he okay?” Whipping her head around wildly, the young boy stepped out of the crowd, wearing a broad grin.  
  
“I’m okay, Princess! Don’ worry!”  
  
Zelda took in his healthy appearance and breathed a sigh of relief. Before she could inquire further, however, Barlow’s booming voice called out to her, splashing footsteps signaling his descent down the stairs.  
  
“Princess! Oh, Princess you had me worried!” The crowd around her parted, giving her a view of the knight as he made his way towards where she sat at the back of the sanctuary. Though he sported several cuts and his gait was lopsided and weary, he looked otherwise unharmed.  
  
“Barlow? What are you—is it gone?”  
  
He nodded, grinning broadly as he approached her. Once he reached her side he fell to his knees; though if it was out of fealty or exhaustion she couldn’t be sure. “It’s dead, your Highness. Link did it. He climbed all the way to the top of the fish tail and jumped off. Must have landed at least ten arrows in the creature before he fell into the river—all perfect shots!”  
  
Zelda’s eyes widened, her pulse spiking as his words processed. “He did WHAT?!”  
  
Barlow looked alarmed by her reaction and quickly raised a hand to placate her. “Don’t worry, he’s alright—he’s coming up the ladder right now. He’s a damned fine diver, I have to say…” As the words left his mouth his eyes widened, suddenly looking chastised. He quickly bowed his head in apology as he covered his mouth with one hand. “Oh—forgive my language, your Highness.”  
  
Zelda waved him off, barely acknowledging his slip as she made to stand on wobbly legs. The blue-skinned Zora woman offered her an arm which she gratefully accepted, finding a tentative balance. King Dorephan stepped out from behind the shrine, two guards following behind him as the crowd parted to allow him passage. He looked haggard, though smiled broadly at her nonetheless.  
  
“Princess, I must thank you. Were it not for your quick actions I would have lost my son as well, today. I scarcely know how to repay you.” As he came to stand before her, he lifted her hands in his own, bowing his head. “Truly, I am in your debt.”  
  
Still feeling wobbly and disoriented, Zelda couldn’t think of anything to say. Staring at him dumbly for several moments, she was saved from making a fool of herself by Link’s sudden appearance at the top of the stairs, and the excitable shouts of the Zora around them.  
  
“Master Link!”  
  
“The Hero!”  
  
“It’s him!”  
  
Zelda quickly turned towards the entrance to see Link standing there, his eyes roving the room in search of her. He was soaking wet, his blond locks plastered to his face and his tunic hanging soddenly from his frame. As soon as he spotted her, blue eyes locked with green, and he gazed at her with a burning intensity, seemingly unaware of anyone else in the room.  
  
Soft words left her lips as she took him in, relieved to see him in one piece. “Link…”  
  
Their silent exchange didn’t last long, however, as Barlow stood on wobbly legs and turned towards King Dorephan. “Um, excuse me your Grace, but you don’t happen to have a healer in the Domain?”  
  
Zelda tore her gaze away from Link’s as Dorephan released her hands and took a step back, gesturing for someone near the back. “Yes, of course. Tula!”  
  
A red-skinned Zora woman made her way through the crowd, coming to stand beside the king as she offered a bow. “Allow me to take a look at you, your Highness, as well as Masters Link and Barlow. Though I’ve been somewhat drained by tending to young Tumbo, I should have enough energy left.” Though Zelda felt an urge to object, King Dorephan nodded, hurrying the Zora towards them.  
  
“Yes, yes,” Dorephan added, “Please take a moment to rest and recuperate. We can meet in my throne room to discuss these events once Tula has had a chance to tend to you.”  
  
Zelda nodded, feeling her faculties beginning to return. “Of course. Thank you, your Grace.”  
  
Tula turned and headed up the stairs, gesturing for Zelda, Barlow and Link to follow.  
  
“Let’s get you all fixed up, shall we?” She said with a smile. Zelda followed behind her, Barlow matching her pace. As she came level with Link at the top of the stairs, her eyes met his once more and she nearly stumbled at the whorl of emotions hidden within: worry, relief, and… anger? Turning, startled, from his gaze, she continued forward as Link fell into step beside her.  
  
Though worried and stressed, and now confused, she could inquire of him later. Right now, she needed to focus on addressing this strange turn of events quickly so they could finish their business in the domain and get back on the road. Despite everything, she still had a tight schedule to keep.


	24. Half-Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you pining for some more ZeLink slowburn and fluff, your time is nigh! See you next week with another update :)  
> Also:  
> On an unrelated note, I'm taking writing commissions! Details and guidelines are on my Tumblr page for those who are interested.

“With all due respect, Princess, after all that has happened, I must insist that you retain Barlow for your journey. Surely a guard from the castle would suffice to protect the Domain…?”  
  
Zelda firmly shook her head. “I cannot in good conscience leave the Domain at risk for the two or three days It would take to receive aid. Link has proved more than sufficient guard on his own in the past, and I believe Barlow would benefit from having additional time to recover from his wounds before traveling. My decision is made.”  
  
Dorephan looked at her appraisingly, but finally sighed. “I defer to your judgment, Princess. However, if I may make a suggestion?”  
  
“Yes, of course.”  
  
“If for no other reason than to ease my own worries, consider traveling… incognito. You can leave the royal saddle and bridle with Master Barlow to return to the castle when he is relieved by a replacement, and I’m sure our innkeeper would have some spare commoner’s clothing for you to wear. I fear you are such a target on your own, and the safety of the roads has drastically declined since the Calamity. Please…”  
  
Zelda bit the inside of her cheek as she considered the King’s request. Though she wasn’t entirely sure she agreed, she supposed there was no harm, especially if it put him at ease…  
  
“Yes… I suppose I can agree to that.”  
  
Dorephan smiled. “Wonderful. And do you still insist upon leaving this afternoon? Can I not convince you to stay one more night?”  
  
Zelda smiled politely, once more shaking her head. “No, I am afraid not. We have already lost enough time, and I can ill afford to delay my return to the castle. However, I do thank you for your hospitality.”  
  
“Of course, your Highness. After what you and Master Link have done for myself and the Domain today, it is the very least I can do.”  
  
-:-:-:-:-  
  
An hour later Zelda sat once more atop her new steed, riding through the Lanayru gorge as she and Link finally departed the Domain. One of the Innkeepers—a bubbly woman named Kodah, had been quite helpful—if a bit overexcited, in preparing Zelda for travel ‘incognito’. She dug through the lost-and-found whilst regaling the Princess with praise for her and Link’s “heroic actions”, finally pulling forth a pair of light brown leather boots, tan trousers, and a cream colored cotton shirt. A loose-fitting sleeveless burgundy tunic completed her “commoner” look, slipping over the shirt to be bound at the waist by a canvas sash and brown leather belt. It was quite different from what she was used to wearing—the material far courser for one—but plenty comfortable all the same.  
  
In her enthusiasm Kodah had even gone so far as to offer to style the Princess’ hair differently, quick fingers knotting her long, golden strands into a tidy French braid, the length of which draped over one shoulder. After glancing in the mirror to gauge the full effect of the Innkeeper’s efforts, Zelda had to admit she looked… quite ordinary.  
  
Link likewise had undergone an outfit change, though his clothes were at least his own. He’d swapped his Champion’s tunic for a forest green Hylian tunic and tan trousers, throwing on a dark cloak to help hide his face. She likewise had donned one and pulled up the hood, despite her disguise—better safe than sorry. And though he hadn’t been particularly happy about it—even going so far as to voice protest, however modest—he’d consented to wrapping the master sword and securing it to his horse, sporting instead a simple traveler’s sword so as not to garner suspicion.  
  
Yet despite all their joint efforts in preparing for departure, whenever possible he had avoided her—ignored her, answering only direction questions with short replies. Even Kodah had subtly raised an eyebrow, though she didn’t dare comment on her knight’s clipped behavior. Zelda had awoken that morning feeling concerned about him after the events of the night prior; and though it was a toss up where his mood had been at the start of the day, it seemed after the Wizzrobe attack that her fears had ultimately borne out.  
  
Then there was _that_. She still could scarcely believe he had done such a dangerous and foolish thing as jumping off the top of the stone fishtail. It must have been a drop of over a hundred feet! Her heart fluttered at the mere thought. If he’d missed, even by a small margin, he could have… she shuddered. Had he not even considered such a possibility? Surely they could have managed without such a risky maneuver… Hyrule was in a delicate state and he was one of their greatest assets—the kingdom couldn’t afford to lose him! Not to mention how distressed she would be, should he…  
  
She didn’t linger too long on that thought.  
  
Though she couldn’t deny her gratitude that he’d made it out unscathed, thought the thought of the alternative caused her stomach to churn; and, in a strangely contradictory and yet seemingly fitting manner, set a fire burning in her veins simultaneously. He was just absolutely, thoughtlessly _reckless_ …  
  
So consumed was she by these hot-and-cold feelings towards Link, she couldn’t even bring herself to think much on the miracle of the strange magic she had somehow performed—a continuation of the mystery that was her Goddess-given power. Every time she tried to divert her thoughts to other matters—whether trying to cast her mind back to the moment she had enacted her mystical feats, or making arrangements for Barlow’s stay in the Domain—inevitably, unfailingly, her mind would somehow return to Link. And once more she would be consumed by that stomach churning fear and burning anger, would again feel that heart-stopping anxiety at the mere thought of what could have happened if things had gone just a little bit differently…  
  
She had _far_ more important and pressing things to be dealing with, and yet it was just Link, Link, Link in her head today; it was bothering her to no end.  
  
She could freely admit, at least to herself, that she was properly mad at him. His callous disregard for his own welfare during the battle with the Wizzrobe and all that disregard entailed, his cruelty towards her the night before, as well as his utterly unwarranted frigidity this morning, had pushed her to her empathetic limit and any lingering sympathy from the night prior had evaporated.  
  
It left her with but one thought, bouncing angrily off the walls of her skull as she mounted Ponli and departed the Domain with a tight expression thinly veiled upon her face: What, exactly, had she done so wrong to warrant this treatment? What gave him the right?! Had he not insulted her enough already?  
  
Well… two could play that game.  
  
She made the decision as soon as they had crossed the Bridge into the Ruto Mountains. If he was insistent on giving her the cold shoulder, she would give as good as she got.  
  
In contrast to her usual talkative manner, she remained utterly silent, refusing even to look at him as the road rose with the swell of the mountain. Naught but the occasional chirping of birds, the distant rushing of the river, and the gusting wind could be heard between them; and with both of them pointedly refusing to speak, Nature’s otherwise peaceful serenade sounded almost deafening.  
  
She forced her attention elsewhere—anywhere but him, mentally reciting the scientific name of every flower and tree they passed to keep her mind occupied. _Solanaceae Caeruleum, common name: blue nightshade… Betulaceae Lanaris… common name: Lanayru birch…_ She kept her back straight and face impassive—an effort to affect bored indifference. But despite herself and her encyclopedic knowledge of Hyrule’s plant life, she couldn’t ignore the tension growing between them.  
  
An hour passed in silence before she felt her resolve begin to crack. Biting the inside of her cheek, she forcibly suppressed the urge rising within her to speak, keeping her lips resolutely shut and her head from swiveling in his direction. With effort she turned her gaze towards the river, watching the current with laser-like intensity and a furrowed brow as she eyed the fish periodically breaking the surface for insects. _Salmo Gelidusfin, common name: chillfin trout… Micropterus Hylianis, common name: hylian bass… Link Nothiel, common name: big fat jerk…_  
  
Inwardly, she groaned. Despite her efforts, she could still feel her anger simmering within her just as strongly as when they left. It shouldn’t be this hard to ignore him!  
  
By the time the second hour came and went, not a word had passed between them; but her patience and stamina had reached its limit. It was utterly unfair that he held this kind of power over her! As they crossed the Oren bridge into the Zodobon Highlands, she finally turned towards him. Shoulders stiff and expression disdainful, she broke the silent standoff between them.  
  
“What, pray tell, have I done so wrong to merit your contempt?” she inquired snappily, apropos of nothing. She lifted her chin in that haughty way she knew he hated, just to spite him; yet he did not look at her as he answered, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead as he spoke in a hollow imitation of polite deference.  
  
“Nothing is wrong, your Highness.”  
  
She stared at him, distinctly unamused, as several beats of silence passed between them.  
  
“Do not try that with me,” she warned lowly.  
  
Link did not respond, continuing to stare straight ahead, his silence stretching as though to mock her. As the seconds turned to minutes she spoke once more, anger and impatience more prominent in her words.  
  
“Answer me!”  
  
_Finally_ , he turned to her, fire in his eyes as he threw his hands into the air with uncharacteristic aggression  
  
“What were you _thinking_? I told you to stay in the sanctuary. I saw what happened—you could have gotten yourself killed running out into the plaza like that! And then where would Hyrule be, Princess, with no one left to sit on the throne?” His tone was uncharacteristically mocking and he emphasized her title just a little bit scathingly. Yet the slight went momentarily unnoticed as her own anger flared.  
  
“Are you joking?” she scoffed, “What was _I_ thinking? What were _you_ thinking, Link?! You jumped blindly from two hundred feet off the ground—in the middle of a thunderstorm! You could have gotten yourself killed! I’ve told you before, there is a fine line between courage and _recklessness_!”  
  
Link eyed her sharply, ignoring her accusations in favor of his own. “You couldn’t have known you’d be able to perform the magic that you did. Had you not, that lightning would have killed you.”  
  
Zelda snorted, “Yes, well, I did manage the magic that I did, didn’t I? And it isn’t as though I had a choice—Prince Sidon and Tumbo would have died had I not gone after them.” She narrowed her eyes as she pointed an accusing finger, her other hand gripping the reins in a tight fist. “ _You_ couldn’t have known you’d make a clean fall into the water—especially with all that wind. Had you missed, even by a small margin, you’d have landed on solid stone—from hundreds of feet up! SOLID STONE, Link!”  
  
Link smirked at her, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. “Yes, well, I did make a clean fall, didn’t I? And it isn’t as though I had a choice—there was no other way to get the shot.”  
  
“Dammit, Link, you’re _missing the point_!” she shouted angrily.  
  
“No, Zelda, _you’re_ missing the point! I’m disposable! I’ve done my job, I’ve fulfilled my destiny. Hyrule doesn’t have another heir!”  
  
His words hit her like a slap in the face, echoing off the canyon walls in the sudden silence. Zelda stilled, the fire in her veins quickly dying as a pit settled uncomfortably in her stomach.  
  
He… was right. No matter what she did, no matter what she desired or what happened, he would always be the one putting himself at risk—on the front lines doing whatever reckless thing ensured that she, the almighty, all important solitary heir to the Kingdom of Hyrule, remained safe. She would always have to watch him risk his life for her, time and time again, always left to wonder when his luck would run out. And when it finally did, he would be replaced—just like all royal guards when their time came. It was an inescapable truth for both of them—one she suddenly realized she’d been distinctly ignoring since the Calamity. She knew that was his job as her appointed knight—to protect her, even at the cost of his own life. In the basest sense he was disposable, but to her…  
  
She turned away, her anger evaporated, leaving only a painful hollowness in its wake. Despite herself her eyes stung and her throat felt tight, but she blinked back the moisture before it could form into tears. She responded lowly, her earlier fire absent from her voice.  
  
“Yes… yes, I suppose… you’re right.”  
  
Without waiting for him to respond she spurred her horse forward, settling into pace several feet in front of him. Thankfully, he did not pursue her, instead trailing a respectful distance behind.  
  
  
-:-:-:-:-  
  
  
It began to drizzle by the time they reached the Soh Kofi shrine, with the threat of more rainfall promised in the thick, dark clouds moving in over the mountains. The shrine would have to be their cover for the night. Link led their horses up the path as he had days before, and they silently tied their horses beneath the cover of the ramshackle traveler’s stable before hauling their packs to the dry safety of the shrine’s interior. Silence reigned between them as it had for much of the journey. Every now and then he would glance in her direction, but she pointedly ignored him; or perhaps she simply couldn’t bear to look at him.  
  
He had been so cruel to her the evening prior beneath the city, and then had gone right on ahead and been an ass to her today, too. Gods, what was wrong with him?! Really, he deserved her silence—her contempt. Hell, he deserved a stay in the lockup for his atrocious behavior of the past two days.  
  
He was being petty and he knew it, clinging to a slight that, really, was utterly unreasonable. They were both reckless fools who had gotten lucky today. Either of them could have been far more hurt than they ended up being had things gone just a little bit differently—and neither of them could have reasonably done anything differently without dramatic consequences. It wasn’t fair for him to hold her actions against her when his had been just as bad. So why was all of this getting so deeply under his skin? He’d been trained for situations just like this, and had never had a problem before.  
  
Inwardly, he sighed.  
  
If he were honest with himself, he knew—he knew what was truly bothering him. The pieces were all there and had been for a while, he’d just refused to connect them until now; and he wasn’t quite sure he was ready to look at the picture they made.  
  
Still, he needed to apologize. Somehow.  
  
Hauling the last pack off of Zelda’s horse, he carried it down the damp slope and into the interior of the shrine where Zelda was already setting up camp, unpacking her sleeping roll and arranging her bags. Silently, Link set the heavy sack down beside the entrance, turning to arrange his belongings parallel to her own.  
  
The interior of the shrine was roomy enough for two people, but not so roomy that the silence between them didn’t feel awkward and stifling. He wanted to say something—to let her know he was sorry, that he hadn’t meant to hurt her; that he felt like such a damned fool and regretted every hurtful word that had left his lips and every kind one that hadn’t. Yet whenever the words formed, shame crept up on him and he held his tongue.  
  
With the light rain soaking all the wood around the area, a cook fire was off the table, and so once Link had finished laying out his bed roll a respectable distance from Zelda’s—or as respectable as one could get in so enclosed a space, he dug through his pack for the dried meats and fruits he’d saved for just such an occasion. Zelda sat cross-legged on her bed roll, still dressed in her commoner attire though her wet boots sat along the wall near the entrance with her cloak. He settled onto his bed roll as well, handing a large strip of dried meat and an apple to her mutely. She eyed him hollowly before accepting his offering, taking a bite out of the apple as she turned her gaze to the misty landscape.  
  
He needed to apologize. But what should he say? He knew he couldn’t share some of the things on his mind and in his heart, but that didn’t mean he didn’t owe her a sincere and heartfelt apology. _Come on, Link, you’re the goddess-damned Hero of Hyrule. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ shouldn’t be this hard!_  
  
But perhaps that was his problem—a simple ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t feel like nearly enough to atone for how he’d treated her.  
  
In the end, he chose to do what he did so often in battle—charge in head first and figure the rest out as he went along. Adjusting himself on his bed roll, he glanced up to see her still staring out at the landscape and pointedly ignoring him. Taking a breath, he spoke quietly, shame keeping his voice soft and low.  
  
“Zelda, I’m… not very good at this, but I—I wanted to apologize.”  
  
Slowly she turned her head towards him, but the look on her face was not one he was expecting. It wasn’t anger or contempt, it was… sorrow. He felt his breath momentarily leave him, guilt gnawing viciously at his insides.  
  
She stared at him a moment, her eyes holding far too much weight, before nodding slowly. He continued with a good deal more nervousness than he’d started with.  
  
“I… wasn’t fair to you—about today. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have held your actions against you when mine were just as risky. And I…”  
  
He paused, taking a breath before soldiering on.  
  
“And… I’m sorry for last night. You aren’t—you didn’t… you didn’t deserve that, either. I know you were only trying to help…” He shut his eyes, running a hand down his face as the gravity of the last two days washed over him—as the memory of her stricken expression beneath the Domain rose sharply in his mind’s eye. He turned from her, unable to meet her gaze, his voice coming out raspy. “I—I’m so sorry…”  
  
He stewed in his own misery for only a moment before gentle fingers grasped his arm, slowly lowering his hands from his face. Surprised, he turned to her, seeing her eye him softly, albeit a bit sadly.  
  
“I appreciate that Link, thank you.”  
  
She lowered her hand from his arm, turning her gaze away to stare at the ground.  
  
“I…” she hesitated, glancing up to him with unsure eyes, and though he felt anything but confident, he nodded encouragingly for her to continue. She bit her lip and looked back at the ground.  
  
“If I am honest, I was… hurt—am hurt; by last night, and today,” she murmured, twisting her hands in her lap, “And it might take me a little while to get past it, but… your apology goes a long way.” She lifted her head, meeting his gaze with a timid, half-formed smile. He felt hope flare weakly within him.  
  
“And I would like to apologize as well.” She looked away once more, staring out at the drizzly landscape. “I overreacted regarding your actions with the wizzrobe. You performed your duty admirably and with skill—I cannot fault you for that.” She let out a breath, finally turning to look at him directly, her eyes large, seeming to gaze not at him, but into him. “I know yesterday was extremely hard for you; and to be followed by a day like today? I’m… sorry I could not have more compassion.”  
  
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, and he felt something within him break. He had been cruel and callous, he had disregarded her feelings and stonewalled her all day, yet _she_ was apologizing to _him_? What on Hylia’s green earth had he done to deserve…? He didn’t—he wasn’t…  
  
Something must have shown on his face because she scooted closer, reaching for him once more and taking his hand in hers. Gently, she ran her thumb over his knuckles, looking up at him with a soft, reassuring gaze. He suppressed a shiver.  
  
After several moments of peaceful silence, she stilled her hand; then spoke—quietly, tentatively.  
  
“I… don’t want to overstep my bounds, and I don’t mean to criticize when I say this, but… you keep so much inside. I want you to know… you can talk to me; regardless of all that has happened the past few days—you can talk to me. I do feel it would help to get some things off your chest. Whatever you want to share… I will listen without judgment.” She gazed at him with sincerity, her eyes large and soft and sweet.  
  
His gaze lingered on hers before he turned from her once more, feeling tears sting his eyes. Quickly he blinked them back, overwhelmed by her unyielding gentleness. He didn’t deserve this… didn’t deserve _her_ … And though he wanted more than anything in this moment to show her his gratitude, to show his trust and faith—the trust and faith he had failed to show over the past two days—he couldn’t bring himself to burden her with his own worries and doubts and fears, especially when he knew how monumental her own were.  
  
That was, until her quiet voice crossed the small space between them.  
  
“Please—let me in, Link…”  
  
He lifted his head, her turquoise irises sparkling imploringly, openly—honestly. He could never hope to deny her when she looked at him like that… And… perhaps she was right. Maybe it would help to get some things off of his chest. Though he still worried about overburdening her, he supposed he would simply have to trust her—trust her judgment. Taking a deep breath he opened his mouth and shut off his brain, letting the words simply flow.  
  
“I… I think I was so angry about today because I watched it happen. I was at the top of the tail, getting ready to jump when I saw the lightning heading straight for you. There was nothing I could do… Barlow was incapacitated, I was too far away, and I—” he hesitated momentarily, feeling his chest tighten, but forced himself on. “I… thought I was going to watch you die,” he finished quietly.  
  
_He had thought he was going to watch her die_ … Until the words left his mouth, he hadn’t realized that was how he felt; that his anger towards her had been, perhaps, merely misdirected fear—the fear of losing her. Several things clicked suddenly into place in his mind; but he kept the revelation to himself.  
  
After a moment she twisted her hands in her lap and looked down. Her voice was soft, almost shy, as she spoke. “I don’t think I ever told you, but… I’d thought the same thing—in the woods after we fled Castle Town the day the Calamity returned. When I heard your head hit the tree…” she shut her eyes tight, struggling to reign in a pained grimace. Link felt his heart ache.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said lowly, his voice rough, “I… you know I can’t—I’d do it again if I had to, to keep you safe. But…” he reached out to her, gently enfolding her hand in his own, “I understand—and I’m sorry…” _For putting you through that, for making you feel that fear_ …  
  
She sighed heavily, then lifted her head to meet his gaze with a pained smile. “I know; and thank you.”  
  
Conversation flowed easily after that. It was as though some invisible barrier between them had fallen at her words, at her simple invitation, and Link found himself speaking freely with her about things he’d told few people, if anyone at all. Much of it was little things—his knight’s training, his experiences as a royal guard before his appointment, growing up in a military family. Occasionally they would veer into more delicate territory—like the fight with Ganon. But throughout it all, she did not judge, did not interrupt or criticize, though she did occasionally ask rather minor questions—a significant effort on her part not to let her curiosity get the better of her; an effort which did not go unnoticed by him.  
  
Eventually, though, as easier subjects thinned, conversation turned to the elephant in the room—the very thing he had been dancing circles around.  
  
“And… what of Mipha?”  
  
They rested side-by-side against the back of the shrine, half-tucked into their respective beds. Her question was soft, tentative, though she looked to him with a curious gaze. He sighed, feeling the knife twist in his heart as he gazed back into her beautiful green eyes, feeling that same draw he’d felt beside the campfire as he contemplated her question. He knew, whether it was with her or quietly in the privacy of his room back at the castle, he would need to examine the damage Mipha’s death had wrought upon his heart. But now, in this moment—gazing into her gentle, kind eyes—he couldn’t help but want to examine those feelings with her, in spite of the inherent contradiction that posed.  
  
So, as he’d done with many things in his young life, he dived off the precipice of the known, submerging himself into the dangerous unknown.  
  
“I don’t know if I’d be feeling this way if I’d never known… I’m sure it would have still hurt, but… I just… I feel like I betrayed her.” Opening his mouth to say more, he stopped, then shook his head, frowning. He needed to be careful not to reveal too much. Zelda eyed him sadly, misinterpreting his reticence.  
  
“If it’s too painful, you could tell me something else. Like… how did you two meet?”  
  
Though that was far from the reason for his withholding, as he recalled the first time they’d met, a small smile rose to his lips. He could share that—he wanted to share that.  
  
He spoke for over an hour—probably the most he’d ever spoken to her at once. He told her of how he and Mipha first met, of their youthful friendship gallivanting around the Domain, of how things just weren’t quite the same—how he wasn’t quite the same—after he’d drawn the sword… of how they saw less and less of each other once he had been appointed to guard her. Zelda simply listened, periodically asking questions or laughing at a story of his foolhardy childhood exploits. When he ran out of stories he spoke of his pain—of feeling like he’d failed her. He spoke of guilt, of sorrow, of regret for all the times he didn’t come to see her when he could have. By the end, once he had expelled the burdens from his heart and his voice had gone hoarse, they fell into silence, each staring out at the canyon as Zelda leaned her head on his shoulder with her hand gripping his reassuringly, their sleeping rolls now side-by-side. The drizzle of rain added a haziness to the darkened view, and created a soft pitter-patter which slowly lulled Zelda to sleep. Link, however, remained very much awake, a final, lingering thought keeping him from rest.  
  
It was the one thing he didn’t—couldn’t—tell her, the one thing tormenting him about Mipha’s death that he would not share with her. What was really, truly killing him, more than the fact that she’d been so deeply in love with him, more than the fact that he hadn’t returned her affections, even more than the fact that she was gone—was that his heart was falling into the hands of another, and had been for some time. As much as he had tried to deny it, to bury it, to hide from it—he couldn’t any longer. Mipha’s gift had forced him to face a stark and painful reality about his love life, a reality he could no more hide from than he could his destiny.  
  
He had betrayed Mipha—one of his oldest and closest friends—in the deepest and most cutting of ways. While she had spent likely countless painstaking hours hand crafting a gift to symbolize her love and devotion, he had been busy getting to know another princess—and falling for her in the process. And now that she was gone and all that remained of her love was this gift, it should be so easy to be faithful to her memory with no imminent threat of marriage or awkward confrontations, and yet… he couldn’t stop thinking about Zelda.  
  
Mipha had given him everything—her love and her life, and despite Zelda’s words of comfort he had never given her nearly enough in return.  
  
And Zelda… He turned his attention away from the blue glow of the Inogo bridge and down to the blond head resting on his shoulder. She looked calm, peaceful despite the weight of their conversation. Several strands of hair hung down in front of her face, and with careful fingers he tucked them behind her ear, a small smile rising to his lips. As soon as he registered the action, however, he immediately frowned, withdrawing his hand.  
  
Through the course of their conversation, the real reason he’d been so angry with her for running out into the plaza during the battle with the Wizzrobe had solidified uncomfortably in his mind. Yes, he had feared he’d been about to witness her death atop the giant statue, but it was more than that. If it had been another soldier in her position, or even one of the Zora citizens, he would not have felt the heart-stopping panic he had—that was only because it was her… because he…  
  
No. He wouldn’t say it, not even to himself.  
  
He had entered dangerous territory. If he were a wise man he would take the opportunity of this realization to distance himself—now, before he got too far down the rabbit hole. His appointment was for life. Barring any serious lifelong injury, unless the King were to wake and dismiss his service, or were Zelda to do so herself—an unlikely prospect—he would be by her side for the rest of his life. Though he had never thought too deeply about it before now, Zelda was, in fact, a Princess—and the only heir. She would eventually need to marry some nobleman or prince and have children to carry on her line, likely sooner rather than later. And he would have to be there through all of it; he would have to endure her courtships, stand by at her wedding watching her make vows to another man, guard her while she was with child… A pit of jealous anger settled deep in his gut at the thought. Could he really endure all that and feel the things he now felt for her? Could he if he let those feelings grow?  
  
And yet… as he gazed down at her sleeping face, long dark lashes draped over rosy cheeks, he felt any resolve crumble. For all his fears of what might come should he let himself truly fall for her, he couldn’t bear the idea of losing her friendship: of never again getting to escort her on a research mission and see her excitedly clamor over some new discovery, or hear her teasing laughter, or be the recipient of her tender smiles. Neither could he stomach the idea of depriving her of one of the very, very few friends and confidants she had in the castle simply because he was weak. Though it might end in his heartbreak, if he was prepared to give his life for her—he could risk his heart as well. Perhaps, he thought bitterly, he could truly atone for his sins against Mipha by suffering a similar fate with Zelda.  
  
Wearily he sighed, laying his head gently atop Zelda’s and shutting his eyes despite his restless heart. Life would never be simple, would it?


	25. The Rains of Lanayru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PUBLICATION UPDATE!  
> Mon., March 4th: LIATOC, chapter 26  
> Mon., March 11th: Beneath a Midsummer Moon  
> Mon., March 18th: The Adventure of Bink  
> Mon., March 25th & April 4th: Publishing break (for taxes)
> 
> And once I'm on the other side of taxes, I'll figure out how I want to proceed from there. Enjoy, and don't forget to leave a review! :3

  
The morning was dry but overcast, dark clouds pregnant with the promise of rain looming overhead and making the sunrise dim and dreary. She awoke to the gentle shaking of her shoulder, and Link standing over her with a small smile. She smiled in return, blinking muzzily, not having remembered falling asleep. As Link turned to continue packing, she struggled upright, waging a battle with gravity to get her eyes to stay open. Her body ached with exhaustion and her limbs felt like lead. As her mind cast back to the day prior, she withheld a grimace as she realized the likely source of her unexpected weariness. She still wasn’t quite sure how her magic worked, or the demands it placed upon her body. She had passed out for four days after sealing the calamity, and it had taken another three days to recover fully after that. The strange and unexpected magic she somehow performed to save the Sidon and Tumbo—that must be the cause.  
  
She shuffled out of her sleeping roll, turning her gaze to Link as he finished tying up his bed roll. His eyes were focused and thoughtful as he gazed downward, his hands working quickly and nimbly to secure the ties for their journey. She smiled softly, feeling a warmth glow in her heart as she thought back on their conversation. She had trusted him implicitly ever since the Yiga attack in the Gerudo Desert; yet he had always kept his cards close to his chest, leaving her to wonder, and to fight to get him to verbalize his thoughts. To have him, finally, after all these months, speak so freely and openly with her… It felt as though he too finally trusted her in the same way.  
  
He had given her something precious—a part of himself he kept hidden from most. She felt… honored, proud to bear the responsibility of sheltering his trust and touched by his faith. Maybe she really could live up to the promise she had made Mipha.  
  
Perhaps it was her imagination, but he also seemed somehow lighter this morning, too. Not in some ways maybe, but nonetheless a weight seemed lifted from his shoulders, a shadow no longer cast over his face. Being able to talk to him and share her worries and concerns over the past several weeks had made the difference between her holding it together and falling apart; and she hoped, maybe, she had been able to offer him the same support.  
  
Once Link was done packing, he dug into his bag and pulled out an apple, handing it to her before pulling out another for himself.  
  
“Running a bit low on food. We can get something more filling on the road,” he said with an apologetic smile. She accepted the offering without complaint before patting the ground next to her and taking a hearty bite. He came and sat cross-legged beside her, turning his body towards the entrance of the shrine as was hers. Little was said between them as they chewed thoughtfully on their meager breakfast, but the tension of the day prior was wholly absent—and in its place a quiet comfortability. It was that very comfortability which allowed Zelda’s thoughts room to comb back through the chaos of the past few days, and attempt to make sense of it.  
  
Though she was barely halfway through her trip, it had already proved to be nothing like what she expected. Part of her was honestly not sure how to proceed after the events in Zora’s Domain. The Zora princess had wanted to MARRY her appointed knight who, as if being the personal guard to the Princess-Regent of Hyrule were not enough, was also a prominent member of the Hyrulean military, the most talented swordsman in the kingdom, and the chosen hero of the Goddess. Did that set a precedent for a change in relations between the Hylians and the Zoras? Was it to be simply… forgotten? Buried in the past along with Mipha? King Dorephan certainly didn’t seem to bring it into much account during her visit, aside from his conversation with Link, so she was unsure what to think.  
  
And what of the Wizzrobe? It was extremely unusual for one to be in such close proximity to a habited settlement—they haunted ruins and mountain passes, not large cities. And dare she even begin to wonder: what of her magic? Whatever she had done had been truly remarkable. Much like her power to seal Ganon, there was clearly some instinctual component that allowed her to access and wield other skills she had yet to consciously discover in times of great need. Perhaps, once she returned to the castle, she should set aside time to practice? To see what she could make manifest?  
  
“Zelda?”  
  
Zelda whipped her head away from the misty landscape and towards the source of Link’s soft voice, only to find him standing beside her with a hand extended and a slight tilt to his head. She shook herself from her reverie.  
  
“Oh, yes, sorry—lost in thought.”  
  
She accepted his hand and stood, and he merely smiled at her. Taking the last bite of her apple, she tossed the core out over the cliff edge—a nasty habit she indulged in only when on the road. Stooping to pick up her bag, she followed Link out of the shrine and into the dark, damp landscape to load up their horses.  
  
They set off by mid-morning, the overcast sky only marginally lightening as they rode side-by-side along the Zora River. Little was said between them, though not out of spite as the silence the day prior had been. Zelda found herself once more swimming in her own thoughts, and it seemed, perhaps especially after last night, Link was as well. His eyes were far away as he rode beside her, and faint dark lines hung beneath them. She couldn’t help but wonder just how much sleep he had gotten. She hoped sharing as much as he had hadn’t worn on him more than it had helped.  
  
By noontime they found themselves approaching the sandy shoreline where the river widened and merged with the Lanyru wetlands, and Zelda felt her stomach beginning to growl. They hadn’t passed any traveling merchants despite this road often having many on their way to Akkala or Zora’s Domain, and perhaps the weather was to blame. Though the sun was high enough now to pierce the clouds, somehow everything seemed darker than when they’d left. A chill permeated the air, and she pulled her cloak tighter around her as a breeze began to flap at the heavy material. She glanced over to Link to see how he was faring, only to find him staring critically up at the clouds, brow furrowed.  
  
Zelda likewise turned her eyes to the sky, observing the thick, dark clouds. “Do you think it will rain soon?” she queried.  
  
Link lowered his gaze and turned to her.  
  
“Yes, we should probably hurry before-“  
  
“Bananas! Delicious, ripe bananas for sale!”  
  
Zelda’s attention was immediately diverted by the unexpected voice, head swiveling towards its source. A hundred feet ahead of them on the side of the road stood a man with a large pack, waving to them and smiling.  
  
“Bananas! Get your delicious, ripe bananas!”  
  
Zelda felt her stomach grumble, their discussion of the weather momentarily forgotten at the prospect of food; and bananas were somewhat of a rarity, growing in only one region of Hyrule: the tropical forests of Faron, far to the south. She smiled brightly, turning back to Link.  
  
“I could do with some bananas, what do you—“ she stopped mid sentence when she saw Link’s hardened eyes and tense shoulders. He quickly maneuvered his steed closer to her, subtly shaking his head. Zelda gazed back in confusion. What was wrong with bananas?  
  
“What—“  
  
“Keep moving. Don’t make eye contact.” His voice was low, too low for the salesman to hear at such a distance. She felt her heart skip a beat, but did as he instructed. She hadn’t taken him at his word in the Domain, and after everything that had happened, she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. She turned her attention away from the salesman, feeling a bit mournful at the loss of a potential midday meal, and kept close to Link—spurring her horse on to keep pace with his increased speed.  
  
The salesman kept up his sales pitch and smile for only another minute before falling silent. As they rode past, she could feel the man’s eyes following her, his face much more sinister without the overly-cheerful salesman grin. A shiver ran up her spine, but she kept her gaze forward. They passed by quickly, but Link’s vigilance remained high until they passed Zelo pond several hundred feet beyond.  
  
When she saw his shoulders finally relax, she turned to him with question in her eyes.  
  
“What was that about?”  
  
Link shook his head, glancing briefly over his shoulder before speaking. “Later. The rain will start soon, so we need to focus on covering more ground.”  
  
Zelda nodded, burning with curiosity but trusting his judgment. With a flick of her reins, she hurried Ponli into a canter, hearing the beating hooves of Link’s steed following close behind her.  
  
-:-:-:-:-  
  
The rain began as they passed the fork in the road near Thims bridge. The wind began to gust, blowing wildly through the trees and bringing with it the first drops of rain. It started slowly, beginning as a mere drizzle, but quickly intensified until water was pouring from the sky in sheets. When thunder boomed from the heavens followed quickly by a fork of lightning flashing across the sky, Link leaned towards her on his horse, shouting over the torrential downpour.  
  
“The Woodland stable is just ahead, we can wait out the storm there!”  
  
Pulling her cloak tighter around her to keep her body heat from escaping and the rain from her face, Zelda nodded emphatically. With a flick of her reins Zelda spurred Ponli on, eager for the dry safety of the stable.  
  
A wave of relief washed over her as the stable lights came into view a few minutes later. She didn’t slow her horse until she was within fifty feet of the entrance, coming to an abrupt stop as a young woman wearing a heavy overcoat came running out into the rain.  
  
“Need to board?” she shouted over the din, approaching Zelda as she dismounted and landed with a splatter in the mud. Link spoke from behind her as he hurried toward the woman, leading Epona by the reins.  
  
“Yes, two to board!”  
  
The stable woman nodded, taking Epona’s reins as Link turned to her. “I’ll unload our bags. Head inside and get beds for the night—I don’t think the rain will let up before nightfall.” Zelda nodded again, eyes squinting against the wind and small strands of hair clinging to her wet face. She turned, splashing hurriedly towards the canvas flaps covering the stable doorway before water began to seep into her boots.  
  
As Zelda pulled back the thick sopping fabric and stepped inside, the warmth and noise of the stable cheerfully greeted her. The large tent was filled with travelers, and the steady thrum of conversation met her ears. A group of four sat around the table leaning forward eagerly over a card game, their boisterous laughter echoing; a pair of identical-looking young men lounged against the wall near the saddle racks; and what seemed to be a traveling merchant sporting an enormous beetle-shaped pack sat propped up against the central wooden pillar adding sums in a ledger. However she gave only brief consideration to the stable’s occupants, focusing instead on relieving herself of her sopping cloak as she made for the counter.  
  
A friendly middle-aged man with a thin mustache and graying beard was rummaging in a low cabinet on the far wall behind the counter as she approached. Looking up briefly, he greeted her with a smile.  
  
“Welcome to Woodland stable! Give me just a moment here and I’ll be glad to help you.”  
  
Zelda nodded, offering a smile of her own, relieved simply to be out of the rain. “Alright, thank you!”  
  
She leaned against the counter, catching her breath and taking a moment to gather her wits after their brief but fraught ride. It had truly been a torrential downpour, but at least they hadn’t suffered it long. She momentarily closed her eyes, basking in the cozy warmth of the stable as her body warmed and her shivering eased. They might lose a day on their way to Rito Village, but at least they wouldn’t catch their death braving the elements.  
  
“Excuse me, miss…?”  
  
Zelda’s eyes popped open and she turned in surprise, finding one of the young men who had been lounging against the wall now leaning against the counter beside her. He had brown hair tied back in a ponytail and a small goatee trimmed to a point on his chin, and he was looking at her with unnerving interest.  
  
“Are you single?”  
  
Zelda blinked. Was she a single what?  
  
“I’m… sorry?”  
  
He grinned widely at her in a manner she presumed he thought was charming, but which rather made her skin crawl. “Are you single? Because if you are, I’d be more than happy to fix that most unpleasant of circumstances for you.”  
  
Suddenly it dawned on her—he was trying to… pick her up! Or hit on her, whatever the commoners called it. She felt her pulse spike and revulsion rise in her gut. A frown threatened to mar her features, but years of training in courtly behavior forced her to keep a polite smile in place.  
  
“Oh, um… that’s… very flattering, but I’m not, um… no. Thank you, but, no.”  
  
She repressed a grimace, feeling the distinct desire to smack herself. She was the Princess-Regent of Hyrule, not some stuttering fool! That had to be one of the single most embarrassing sentences she had ever spoken aloud. But… no one had ever dared be so… brash with her. Was this sort of crude attempt at flattery common? How did people normally respond to something like this?  
  
Instead of apologizing or walking away like she had expected, he simply shook his head and gave her a coy smile. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re missing! Everyone wants a piece of the Domidak… I’m a famous treasure hunter, d’you know? It ain’t often I’m available… Why don’t you take advantage of this rare opportunity, eh? You and I could spend some time getting to know each other…”  
  
Zelda felt distinctly uncomfortable as the man inched closer, desperately hoping Link would enter and be her saving grace. However, Domidak continued to stare at her with an unnervingly hungry gaze, and Link was nowhere to be seen. She felt her heart beat quicken.  
  
“That’s very… nice, but I—”  
  
“Welcome! So sorry about the wait. Will you be staying with us?”  
  
The stable master’s interjection couldn’t have been more welcome. Swiveling quickly on her heel, Zelda turned her attention to the man, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. As she stared at him, an idea suddenly blossomed in her mind. She nodded, smiling sweetly as she greeted him.  
  
“Yes, thank you! I will need lodging for I and my husband,” she emphasized the word as she glanced fleetingly out of the corner of her eye, “for the night; as well as for both our horses.”  
  
The man behind the counter smiled, pulling out a ledger from under the counter. “Two horses for boarding and one double bed for the night. You got it, ma’am! Just sign in here and I’ll get your total tallied.”  
  
Zelda froze, hands tightening around her cloak as her brain stalled on the words ‘one double bed’. But she couldn’t request two, not in front of mister would-be charming; it would seem too suspicious and she didn’t want to risk having her bluff called.  
  
However, her worry over whether she had just made a mistake was momentarily allayed as the self-proclaimed famous treasure hunter visibly soured.  
  
“You know, that husband of yours should really be takin’ care of you—its a shame you have to pay for him,” he huffed, then turned and headed back towards his companion lounging against the wall. Zelda let out a small breath.  
  
“Sorry about him—Dom’s one of our regulars. Never met a man with a more inflated ego, but its against regulation to ban customers unless they’ve broken stable rules, so please don’t hold it against us. If I could just have you sign in here…”  
  
Zelda’s attention returned to the stable master who was offering her an apologetic smile as he pushed a notepad towards her on the counter. She picked up the quill beside it and nodded.  
  
“Yes, of course.”  
  
However, as her pen came to hover over the paper, beneath the column labeled “guest name”, she found herself facing yet another problem. She couldn’t put her real name, nor Link’s for that matter—It would rather invalidate the point of traveling in disguise. Thinking quickly, she set pen to paper and wrote in her looping, curving script, “Hilda Lorule”, and beneath that, “Ravio Lorule”. She smiled at her own cleverness—few would recognize the reference to the Princess and Hero of Hyrule’s mythical parallel world—only the most educated scholars, most of whom resided at the castle or the Royal Lab, even had access to the texts containing that ancient legend. Satisfied, she returned the pen to its inkwell and smiled at the man.  
  
“Excellent!” He glanced briefly down at the form before tucking it back under the counter, leaning atop the wood and smiling jovially. “Your total is 60 rupees, Mrs. Lorule.”  
  
Zelda quickly reached into the pouch at her waist and pulled forth the appropriate payment and extended it forth. The man deftly plucked the rupees from her palm before gesturing across the room.  
  
“All set! Your bed is the one on the far left, please feel free to get settled in.”  
  
She smiled as a feeling of awkwardness began creep in, giving brief thanks before turning for the bed he indicated. A pit of anxiety settled in her stomach as she approached, the consequences of her lie returning forcefully to her mind.  
  
A chair sat next to their bed and she used the backrest to hang her cloak out to dry before turning and slowly sitting upon the mattress. She took a slow, measured breath. She knew what the Knight’s code entailed—knew that in the eyes of the court her sharing a bed with Link—however platonic—would be at minimum cause for an inquiry. Only the most upstanding and honorable soldiers were even appointed to guard a member of the royal family for the very reason that they would be exposed to potentially compromising and personal situations with their charge during the line of duty, and must be trustworthy enough to handle such situations with discretion and respect.  
  
But at present, they weren’t under the critical eyes of the court—they were far north of the castle, traveling as two nobodies; and in order to maintain their anonymity, it seemed certain… compromises, would have to be made. But was such a compromise reasonable?  
  
It wasn’t that strange, sharing a bed—right? Just last night they had fallen asleep right next to each other. Sure, they’d been in their own separate sleeping rolls and hadn’t had much room in the shrine to begin with, but the concept was essentially the same… so why did the prospect of sleeping right next to each other, but in a bed, cause her nerves to explode into an anxious frenzy?  
  
Her thoughts lingered fretfully on the subject, but upon hearing a flapping sound coming from the front of the stable she swiftly turned to see Link stepping through the canvas flaps, a bag under one arm and the wind whipping his cloak as he quickly glanced around the room. Butterflies erupted into a flurry within her, but she pushed the feeling away as she waved him over.  
  
He walked towards her with quick strides, his cloak dripping water across the floor. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Domidak eying him critically from his spot along the wall, though Link paid him little heed. She felt the butterflies flutter and flap, and her nervousness must have shown on her face as Link’s expression slowly narrowed as he got closer. She forced a smile as he approached the bed, setting the bag down on the seat of the chair as he pulled off his cloak and hung it from a nearby hook on the wall. He then leaned in, speaking lowly, his expression one of carefully disguised concern.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he whispered, and she nervously patted the bed beside her. He quirked a brow, but sat down without question. She could feel Domidak’s eyes on their backs, and so she forced her smile wider, taking his hand. If Link was surprised by her unexpected gesture, he did a good job of disguising it.  
  
“I, um… please… hear everything I have to say,” she began, chewing nervously on her lip, “That man sitting along the wall—”  
  
“The one staring at me when I walked in?”  
  
It seemed Link had noticed, after all. She should have figured.  
  
“Yes, him. His name is apparently Domidak. He…” she fiddled with the hem of her tunic briefly as she contemplated how best to explain what had happened. “While I was seeing to our lodgings he approached me and he… well, he was very interested in me, and didn’t seem to want to take no as an answer…” She felt Link’s hand tighten around hers, and his expression hardened.  
  
“Was he inappropriate with you?”  
  
The sharpness in his voice took her by surprise and the implication of his words made her blush profusely. She immediately released his hand, balling them against her belly as she vigorously shook her head.  
  
“No! No, nothing like that, but I—when the stable master asked if it was just me who would be staying, I told him…” She hesitated, and Link nodded for her to continue, expression confused. “I… told him I would be staying with—with my husband.” She felt her cheeks burn fiercely and she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “It worked quite well to get him to leave me be,” she continued quickly, “But… we only have one bed as a result.”  
  
Link continued to gaze at her with an inscrutable expression for several moments, during which she felt her stomach flip several times. However, slowly, his expression morphed into one of humor. Lifting her head, she saw him smiling, relief etched in his features.  
  
“You had me worried for a moment,” he admitted quietly, “I thought I was going to have to break our cover and arrest him.”  
  
Zelda felt unexpected relief, smiling at him sheepishly. “No, he seemed quite put off at the mere mention of the word. But…” she hesitated again, feeling her nerves spark once more. “We still only have one bed. If I request another, that would only do to draw attention.”  
  
At this, Link stilled, turning from her gaze as he stared absently across the room in thought. It was several moments before he spoke, turning back to her with determination in his eyes.  
  
“I’ll sleep in the chair—we’ll just wait until everyone else is asleep before going to bed, and no one will be any the wiser.”  
  
Silence hung between them as Zelda considered his plan. It was a perfect solution, one that would allow them to maintain their anonymity while also preserving propriety, even if it did require a sacrifice on Link’s part; yet she couldn’t help but feel inexplicable disappointment. But really… what had she honestly expected of him, anyway?  
  
“You don’t mind?”  
  
Link smiled softly, shaking his head. “No.”  
  
Though part of her had been hoping he would rescind his offer, she forced a smile—it was a potential problem resolved, at least, and now they could both relax for the remainder of the afternoon and evening.  
  
“Alright, it’s a plan. Oh—one more thing.”  
  
Link nodded.  
  
“Your name is Ravio, and my name is Hilda; Lorule—Hilda and Ravio Lorule. At least, that’s who I signed us in as.”  
  
Link tilted his head in amusement, quirking a brow.  
  
“I—we couldn’t use our real names, and they were the first names I thought of,” she said sheepishly, “I hope you’re not opposed to them.”  
  
Link smiled wryly. “Not at all, Hilda.”  
  
Zelda eyed him with amusement before smiling in return.

 

 


	26. Playing at Being a Commoner

  
Little over an hour had passed after arriving at the stable and Zelda sat, fidgeting, on the edge of her bed. A rhythmic metallic shink sounded from behind her as Link methodically sharpened his traveler’s sword with a whetstone in the chair she had earlier draped her cloak upon. It couldn’t have been any later than mid-afternoon as the storm continued to beat against the stable roof, the gusting wind periodically rattling the tightly tied canvas flaps covering the stable entrances; And with no ground to cover nor books to study, nor even any officials with which to mingle, Zelda found herself in the very rare circumstance of having little to do.  
  
They had kept busy in that first hour. Shortly after settling in they had restocked their supplies from the traveling merchant with the beetle shaped backpack, an odd but friendly man named Beedle who greeted them with no small amount of enthusiasm. They had then eaten their fill of dried meats, fruit, and cheese—also courtesy of Beedle, much to her empty stomach’s overwhelming joy. After they settled in, laying out their cloaks to dry and arranging their scant belongings beside the bed. And now, with all pressing matters attended to, Zelda found herself lightly kicking her feet over the edge of the bed (for want of anything better to do), wondering for the first time in quite a while how she was to fill her time. Ordinarily, were she back at the castle, she would entertain herself with a little bit of light reading, go for a walk through the castle gardens, or perhaps sketch some of her specimens. But Link had only unpacked the essentials from their horses, not that she had brought much in the way of entertainment with her, and she wasn’t about to go outside for a change in scenery.  
  
At first she had thought to take a brief rest. She was still quite tired from the day prior, and hoped that she could regain enough energy to make productive use of her time here, as her mind felt too sluggish and weary for any deep thinking; but sleep proved frustratingly elusive. And so instead, she settled herself on the edge of the bed, limbs fidgeting in a rare outward show of boredom. In the small, crowded stable, there wasn’t much to do or even look at besides the stable’s transient residents; and so she found herself doing just that.  
  
Domidak and his look-alike companion—a twin brother perhaps?—continued to lounge on their spot against the far wall and speak quietly with one another, much to her relief; he gave her an unsettled feeling and she was grateful to avoid any further interactions. Beetle had dozed off, pack still strapped to his back, after half an hour of counting sums. And on the far side of the room—a rousing card game, taking place at the stable’s only indoor table. The woman who had run out into the rain to greet them—the horse groomer she later learned was named Breen—sat around the large, circular table with three others: an elderly stable hand, a fair-haired traveler, and a large Goron.  
  
With nothing else to do, she found herself watching their game with interest. Cards were not something she’d ever been taught to play—they were more of a commoner pastime deemed too pedestrian for her status by the strict tutors she’d studied under as a child; but as a chorus of laughter issued from the group, she found herself now rather wishing otherwise. The table’s occupants seemed to be having quite a lot of fun.  
  
With a sigh, she leaned back on her hands, absently kicking her feet in an attempt to expel some of her restlessness. She knew she should be grateful for the reprieve, for a moment to breath; the past few days had been such a whirlwind, and the past month even more so. Despite her inability to sleep she was worn out; and though stillness was nice, right now she didn’t particularly desire stillness as stillness bred brooding—and she had far too little energy for such a taxing activity. What she really wanted was an opportunity to distract herself from the whirlwind of the past month and the whirlwind still to come; to have… fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something for the sole purpose of having fun.  
  
A barking laugh echoed across the room as the Goron scooped a large pile of pebbles towards him with a triumphant grin, the elderly stable hand cackling as the fair-haired traveler looked sourly down at the table. She smiled in amusement as she observed. They all looked so joyful—so carefree…  
  
Carefree… She almost couldn’t remember what that felt like. Her smile fell at that thought.  
  
The soft scraping of Link’s whetstone suddenly ceased, and she turned to glance over her shoulder curiously. Link eyed her, the hand holding the whetstone still against his blade.  
  
“I can hear the gears turning in your head from here,” he said quietly in a rare show of humor, cocking his head at her. She felt a faint warmth heat her cheeks and she huffed playfully; though she couldn’t keep the small smile from turning up the corners of her lips.  
  
“I’m just… I find myself a bit bored, is all.”  
  
He smiled, turning his gaze back to his sword as he examined the edge gently with a fingertip.  
  
“After the past few days, I’d have thought you’d appreciate some quiet.”  
  
She eyed him a moment before sighing, sitting upright and placing her hands gently in her lap. She’d rather thought so, too.  
  
“I know—I should be appreciative, especially since any peace has been so rare of late. I don’t know what’s gotten in to me—I’m not normally so restless. Perhaps… perhaps it’s the weather…”  
  
He tilted his head up once he’d found his work satisfactory, offering her a reassuring smile. “Perhaps.”  
  
Turning her eyes back to the card game at the table, she murmured softly, mostly to herself, “I do wish I knew how to play cards, though…”  
  
Turned as she was, she did not see Link open his mouth to respond; however he was interrupted before he could speak as the ties on the flaps covering the stable’s entrance suddenly burst open in a violent gust, cutting him off and diverting the attention of all the stable’s occupants. The flaps fluttered wildly as the wind sent rain splattering into the stable, causing those at the table to shield themselves with their arms and cry out in alarm. A gust surged through, blowing the cards across the room and sending several tumbling along the floor where they settled at Zelda’s feet.  
  
“Kish, tie off the doorway!” shouted Breen, clutching fast to her hat. The stable master quickly hopped over the counter, rushing to the doorway and tightly pulling the flaps together, hurriedly securing each tie. As the air in the stable stilled, Breen stood, glancing critically around the room. “Hold on guys, I’ll get the cards. We’ll call that hand a draw.”  
  
Zelda glanced down to the handful of cards at her feet before hopping off the bed and kneeling to gather them, stacking them neatly in her hand. Breen slowly stooped her way across the floor, gathering up the rest of the wayward cards; and as the woman approached, Zelda extended her handful with a friendly smile.  
  
“Here—”  
  
Breen stood, dusting off her leggings as she gratefully took the stack.  
  
“Thank you!” She said brightly, glancing quickly between her and Link as she nodded to them both in thanks. She turned back towards the table, but before taking a step she paused, returning her gaze to Zelda and nodding towards her companions.  
  
“Hey, would you two like to join us? Poker’s always more fun with more players, and there ain’t a lot to do ‘round here till the storm passes.”  
  
Zelda smiled shyly, glancing longingly at the table and its three occupants who had directed their attention towards her.  
  
“That’s very kind of you, but I’m afraid I don’t know how to play,” Zelda offered regretfully. Breen opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak Link’s unexpected voice came from behind her.  
  
“I can teach you—if you’d like.”  
  
Zelda turned to see Link looking at her with an impassive expression, though a smile shone in his eyes.  
  
“I—are you sure?” she asked hesitantly, though found herself unable to disguise her interest. He nodded firmly.  
  
“Awesome! I’ll pull up some extra stools,” Breen enthused, neatening her stack of cards before turning on her heel and heading for the counter.  
  
Link sheathed his traveler’s sword, slipping the scabbard onto his back and stowing his whetstone in their pack before walking around the bed to meet her. He offered her an encouraging smile, nodding towards the table and she couldn’t help but feel a budding excitement. Breen returned shortly with two stools, settling them beside one another at the table. Both her and Link took a seat, Zelda beside Breen and Link beside the older gentleman.  
  
Breen then set the cards on the table and began to make introductions.  
  
“Everybody, this is Hilda and Ravio,” she said with a smile, gesturing between them. Pointing to the older gentleman, she continued. “This is Ashe, Kish’s father and our stable’s resident navigator.”  
  
She then gestured towards the young blond-haired man. “This is Molo, one of our regulars.”  
  
Molo nodded his head, the hair covering his left eye swaying as he did so.  
  
“And this is Boldon, another of our regulars and the Goron ambassador of tourism.” The Goron nodded, offering a broad smile.  
  
“Pleased to make your acquaintances!” he offered brightly.  
  
Zelda gave a small wave, feeling just a little out of place. Breen had introduced her so… casually. No pomp, no formal language, no bowing… Not that there was anything wrong with that, but it had never been her experience before. She knew how to behave in her role as a Princess, but as just another ordinary person? That was… quite foreign.  
  
“Nice to meet you all,” she offered a tad meekly. Beside her, Link nodded.  
  
Ashe reached forward and picked up the stack of cards, glancing through them briefly before shuffling with surprising speed for one so aged.  
  
“Alright, for the benefit of our new friends here—” he said in a gravelly voice, bridging the cards before dealing out, “The game is poker. Aces high, jokers wild. Starting bet is one pebble.”  
  
As Ashe went around the table, everyone set a pebble in the middle. Beside them, Breen reached into a sack at her waist, pulling forth a large handful of small pebbles and giving each Zelda and Link a pile.  
  
“Gambling is technically not allowed in the stable system, so this is our little way of getting around the rules,” she said with a wink, and Zelda gazed down at her pile curiously. Link plucked a pebble from his pile and set it in the middle of the table, gesturing for her to do likewise. Once her bet was placed, Link leaned closer, speaking lowly.  
  
“Each hand you’ll be dealt five cards. The goal is to get a combination of cards worth the highest value. You have only one opportunity to discard as many cards as you’d like, and be dealt new ones. A bet is made at the start of every round, and the player with the highest hand at the end wins it all.”  
  
Zelda picked up the two cards which had so far been dealt to her, and nodded.  
  
“The order of hands, from lowest to highest, are: high card—where your hand’s only value is its highest card; a pair—two of the same card; two pairs—two sets of pairs; three of a kind—three of the same card; a straight—five sequential cards of different suits; a flush—five cards of the same suit; a full house—a pair and three of a kind; four of a kind, a straight flush—five sequential cards of all the same suit; and a royal flush—five sequential cards of all the same suit with an ace high.”  
  
Zelda glanced over at him impressed, mentally reviewing the list he’d just given her before nodding. She would likely need it repeated a few times, but rather thought she grasped the general concept. Once everyone had five cards before them, she watched the other players lift their cards and fan them before their eyes—so Zelda followed suit. Glancing at her hand, she quickly took stock: a three of hearts, a three of spades, a four of hearts, a five of spades, and a six of diamonds. She stared blankly at them for several moments before turning to Link and whispering, “So… now what?”  
  
A small, amused smile graced his lips as Link once more leaned closer, gently grasping her hand to tilt her cards towards him. He scanned over them a moment before nodding appreciatively.  
  
“Not bad.” He then lowered his voice, leaning close to her ear. She could feel his breath ghost over her skin, and struggled not to shiver. “You’re very close to a straight. You can discard one of your threes and hope to get a two or seven, or you can hold on to your threes and discard the rest. A pair is of a lower value, but its at least a sure thing.”  
  
Zelda nodded, contemplating her hand—and her odds. She liked the sound of a sure thing, at least for her first hand… pulling out the four, five, and six, she slid them towards Ashe, who placed them in the discard pile and swiftly dealt out three more. Pulling them towards her and clumsily arranging them fan-like in her hand, she frowned. A four of spades, a five of hearts, and a seven of diamonds. Turning to Link, she whispered, “And I can only discard once, correct?”  
  
Glancing at her hand, he chuckled lowly. “Correct.”  
  
Boldon looked around the table triumphantly and boldly threw three pebbles into the center. Breen eyed him with a critical expression before adding three more of her own to the pile. Link followed suit. With a sigh, Molo glanced at his pile of five pebbles before placing his cards face-down on the table.  
  
“I fold.” He said dejectedly, and Breen laughed.  
  
“How you expect to find hidden treasures with luck like that is beyond me.”  
  
He gave the stable hand a sour look as Link leaned closer once more. “When someone raises the bet, you have to match them if you want to stay in the game. If you’re not confident in your hand, you can fold instead, and forfeit your starting bet.”  
  
Zelda nodded, staring down at her own hand. She had only a pair, the second lowest-hand you could have. But… maybe no one else had anything better? She didn’t quite know what the odds were in this game, or how good the other players were; perhaps it was worth the risk. Reaching into her pile of pebbles, she set another two in the center of the table. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Link, on the verge of saying something, but closed his mouth and quickly turned back to his own hand.  
  
“Alright, show ‘em folks,” came Ashe’s voice.  
  
As Breen laid down her hand, Zelda immediately knew she had made the wrong move.  
  
“Two pair,” she said smugly, glancing around the table. Boldon, however, let out a barking laugh as he laid down his own.  
  
“Three of a kind, my friend! Too bad.” he grinned, crossing his arms.  
  
Zelda sheepishly laid out her hand. “A pair.”  
  
But in the end it was Link who stole everyone’s attention. In the quiet, stoic fashion she was so familiar with he laid out his hand, barely bothering to even look at anyone else as he pulled in the pile of pebbles.  
  
“Full house.”  
  
Molo’s eyes bulged and he threw his hands into the air. “Aw, come on! I’ve had lousy luck all night and the new guy comes in and cleans house on his first hand?”  
  
Link remained silent, adding the small pile of pebbles to his own as Ashe chuckled, pulling in the cards before dealing out again.  
  
“You always have lousy luck, Molo.”  
  
Breen and Boldon chuckled.  
  
Despite her loss, Zelda felt her enthusiasm only rise. She had gotten a sense for the flow of the game, and perhaps even a sense of the odds stacked for and against her. She could do this. Taking up her next hand, she eyed it studiously, eager to try and match Link’s skill.  
  
She had a bard, a queen, and a king, a two, and a seven. What was her best play here? As she mentally reviewed all the hands Link had listed, staring at her hand with focused determination, Link’s finger came into view, silently pointing to the suit of each card. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she glanced to him with an eager smile. She had a flush!  
  
As the time came to discard, Zelda shook her head at Ashe’s inquiry, unable to keep the corners of her mouth from tilting up in a slight smile.  
  
“Alright, raise your bets if ya like,” said Ashe as he stacked the discarded cards more neatly. Zelda added three pebbles to the center pile, eagerly glancing around to see who would match her. Breen stared at her with a raised brow, Molo looked exasperated, and Boldon eyed her with an amused smile.  
  
“Well, I fold,” said Molo flatly, tossing his cards onto the table.  
  
Breen set hers down as well. “I fold.”  
  
“You might want to work on your poker face, Miss Hilda,” came Boldon’s amused tones as he too, set his hand down.  
  
Zelda felt her smile fall, and she glanced to Link with question in her eyes. He leaned into her, speaking quietly, though he couldn’t keep the humor from his tone.  
  
“Part of poker is gauging the confidence your opponents have in their hand to decide whether to keep playing or fold to avoid further losses. You also want to be careful not to let your own confidence show, so you don’t give away your hand—especially if its a good one.”  
  
Zelda stared back down at her cards, uttering a soft, “Oh. So… I gave away my hand?”  
  
Link nodded as Breen said from beside her, “‘Fraid so, ‘hon.”  
  
However, to her surprise, instead of setting down his hand as the others had, Link added three pebbles to the pile. Zelda gazed at him in surprise, narrowing her eyes as she tried to read his expression. He had seen her hand, and so he would know whether or not he could beat her. But… maybe he was just letting the turn play out?  
  
However, as in many other situations, Link proved an impenetrable wall, not a single tell on his face. After several moments, she sighed, deciding to tempt fate and lay down her cards.  
  
“A flush,” she said carefully, eying him closely.  
  
Without even a momentary change in his expression, he laid down his hand as well. “Four of a kind.”  
  
Zelda groaned, staring at him in exasperation—but a hint of a smile shone in his eyes as he pulled in the pile.  
  
Ashe chuckled as he pulled in their cards and dealt out the next hand. “You’ve caught yourself a real card player there, Hilda.”  
  
Breen laughed as well, taking up her cards as Ashe continued around the table. “I’ll say. Two killer hands in a row.”  
  
Zelda eyed her hand—only a pair—and discarded three, receiving three more from Ashe. Fanning them before her—two pair, not so bad—she contemplated upping her bet.  
  
“How long have you two been married?” queried Ashe casually as he absently shuffled the growing discard pile.  
  
The hands which held her cards suddenly tensed. She felt her face flush, heart beating faster as her mind seized at the utterly unexpected question. She hadn’t thought her fib would carry beyond her encounter with Domidak… Although now it seemed rather foolish to think that the other stable hands wouldn’t know who was staying there. She hadn’t given any thought to a back story. What on earth would she say?  
  
“I… we—” Zelda stuttered, and as Ashe lifted his head from his cards to stare at her with polite interest, she felt panic set in. “W-we…”  
  
“We were just wed,” Link interrupted, eying his cards casually as he discarded one to the pile and received a new one from Ashe. Zelda turned and stared at him, only just managing to mask her surprise—and her blush; though she couldn’t deny she was grateful for the save.  
  
“Oh, newlyweds, how lovely!” gushed Breen, turning her full attention towards the pair. “What brings you to Woodland Stable?”  
  
Of course the questions wouldn’t stop there. Zelda felt her mouth go dry as her brain kicked into overdrive. “Well…” she licked her lips, struggling to keep her cool. “We—we’re… traveling west,” she offered faintly, barely holding onto a smile. Why hadn’t she thought of a back story sooner?!  
  
“Oh? Where are you headed? I’ve been out west—to the Forgotten Temple, once. Some real killer treasure there if you can make it inside,” said Molo, frowning at his cards as he rearranged them in his hand.  
  
Zelda glanced to Link who seemed totally at ease before turning back to Molo, feeling her palms sweat. “We’re… heading to Hebra.” There… a little detail, but not too much… Hopefully that would be enough to end the conversation.  
  
“Rito Village is beautiful this time of year,” piped in Ashe, dealing out cards to Boldon. “With all the snows melting and the flowers blooming, it makes for a lovely romantic getaway,” he teased, waggling his eyebrows between the two of them. Zelda felt her blush deepen and butterflies erupt in her stomach.  
  
“Do you have any particular destination in Hebra?” Inquired Breen, turning towards her with a friendly smile.  
  
“Oh… ah,” Zelda stuttered, “We, um…”  
  
Link once more piped in, speaking with a cool and casual demeanor. “We’re on our honeymoon, actually; taking a tour around Hyrule. Perhaps we’ll make a stop at Rito Village.”  
  
Zelda struggled to keep her jaw from visibly dropping as she stared at Link wide-eyed. Honeymoon?! It was… a good cover, certainly, but… but…!  
  
Breen squealed with delight. “Oh, how sweet! Honeymooners in our little stable! I feel like we should celebrate.”  
  
At those words Zelda’s composure momentarily returned, and she shook her head vigorously, face still pink. “Oh, no, you don’t need to—”  
  
“Yes!” interrupted Boldon’s excitable voice, “We should celebrate—and I’ve got just the thing!”  
  
With a grunt the large Goron stood, heading for his pack on the wall. Zelda chanced a nervous glance at Link out of the corner of her eye, only to see him gazing calmly and studiously at his cards. She felt annoyance and envy flare briefly within her. He would keep his cool in all this…  
  
Boldon returned quickly, setting a bottle with a black label adorned with a red flame onto the table. “Finest Whiskey in Hyrule! Goron fire whiskey—available only in Goron City,” he added with a flourish, to which Breen playfully nudged him in the shoulder.  
  
“Oh, give your tourism spiel a rest!”  
  
The Goron smiled sheepishly, but still pulled the cork from the bottle with a pop, gathering a selection of cups from beside the betting pile in the middle of the table.  
  
“Who wants a glass?” he asked jovially, pouring himself a healthy serving, “It’s on me!”  
  
“How could I say no?” Molo replied enthusiastically, reaching forward and pulling one of the ceramic mugs towards him.  
  
Breen raised her hand with a smile, and Ashe stroked his goatee, thoughtfully observing the black label on the bottle with fondness. “Ah, Goron Fire whiskey! I haven’t had any in years. A fitting beverage to honor the fire of young love!”  
  
Zelda felt her face catch fire.  
  
“And of course, two glasses for the happy couple!” Boldon enthused as he began pouring; but Zelda quickly shook her head, feeling panic set in again.  She had never had anything to drink before, but she knew the reputation of Goron Fire Whiskey. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing a novice drinker would be well advised to try their first time with alcohol, and she needed to keep her wits about her…  
  
“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly—”  
  
“Of course you can! It’s your honeymoon!” Boldon cheered, starting to pour the second glass.  
  
Zelda only shook her head more vigorously.  
  
“Oh, n-no, I—”  
  
However, Boldon charged right ahead and pushed two filled glasses towards them—which Link, thankfully, intercepted. Though, to her surprise, he pulled one glass towards himself, before pushing the other back towards Boldon.  
  
“Thank you, Boldon, but Hilda doesn’t drink. She—she’s…” he paused and Zekda chanced a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. For the first time since this unexpected conversation began, subtle signs of nervousness showed upon his face. However he quickly recovered, finishing his sentence with the last excuse she would have expected to hear coming from his lips, “We—we’re trying for a baby.”  
  
This time Zelda’s jaw did drop as she stared at link with wide eyes and a flushed face. Cooing could be heard around the table, but Zelda took little notice due to the blood rushing in her ears.  
  
WHAT? Oh dear Goddess, let the ground open up and swallow her whole…  
  
Granted, the whole fabricated tale made an excellent cover story. No one would question if they were vague about their destination, or why Link might be unusually protective of her. But it did have one extremely awkward side effect: now she was thinking about it—about Link being her husband, of the two of them—alone, in bed, trying to… to… she felt her cheeks heat and her heart flutter madly as she buried her face behind her hand of cards.  
  
It was… scandalous! Outrageous! It was… actually oddly exhilarating to think about, if she were honest with herself. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone. And truly, that was the cause for her embarrassment. These people did not know who she was, nor would she likely ever see them again. Beyond making sure their journey was unhampered, It didn’t really matter what they thought. But Link…  
  
They would both carry the memory of this night forward—of their pretend marriage at Woodland stable, where they played two young lovers on their honeymoon, trying for a baby. That would always exist between them now.  
  
“Alright, alright, leave the two alone,” came Ashe’s raspy voice through the din of cooing, “It’s time to play your hands.”  
  
Zelda played hers first in an effort to move conversation along, setting down two fours and two sevens.  
  
“Two pair,” she said meekly, putting her hands in her lap and struggling to contain her blush.  
  
Boldon smiled, laying out his cards next. “Ha! Three of a kind.”  
  
Molo grimaced as he laid out his hand. “Ugh. Ace high.”  
  
Then, as the table turned to look at link, he laid down his hand, with the same stoicism he had both rounds before. “Royal flush.”  
  
The table groaned as Link pulled in the pile, turning just briefly to glance at her out of the corner of his eye and offer her a subtle wink. Her face heated at his unexpected gesture and her heart skipped several beats; but despite everything, Zelda couldn’t help but smile.  
  
-:-:-:-:-:-  
  
They remained playing for several hours more, with Boldon and Molo’s performance steadily decreasing as they drained the contents of their glasses. However, as the hours past sunset ticked on, one-by-one the players around the table departed for bed until it was just her, Link, and Breen. Though their plan had been to wait until everyone was asleep before heading to bed themselves, Zelda was beginning to have difficulty keeping her eyes open. Breen shuffled the cards after their last hand, and as she looked up to see Zelda’s head beginning to droop, she set the cards aside and smiled.  
  
“Aw, Hilda, why don’t you head to bed? I can clean up here. I’m on watch tonight, anyway.”  
  
Zelda’s ears perked up at that, her exhaustion momentarily dissipating as she eyed Breen with a degree of apprehension.  
  
“On watch? You… won’t be going to bed yourself?”  
  
Breen smiled wryly as she pooled the pebbles back into her pouch. “‘Fraid not. On nights like this its regulation for there to be someone on hand through the night to manage the stable. This time it’s me.” She shrugged, continuing to tidy the tabletop as Zelda stood, Link rising beside her.  
  
“Oh. Okay, well… goodnight,” Zelda said, turning for the bed with Link beside her. She crossed the short distance across the room with increasing nervousness, and as she approached the mattress she leaned towards Link.  
  
“What do we do?” she whispered urgently, glancing sidelong at Breen who was putting the extra stools back behind the counter. She then glanced back to him, and he looked, for the first time since arriving, on edge.  
  
“I can… stay up. Say I’m having trouble sleeping.”  
  
Zelda narrowed her eyes at him. “Link, you do, in fact, need to sleep as well.”  
  
“It’s alright, I’ll just chat with Breen, and—and…” he paused, staring off into the distance with unusual concentration before quickly covering his mouth, unable to stifle a yawn. Zelda narrowed her eyes at him before softening.  
  
“Link, you’re tired. You need to rest.” She then leaned closer, lowering her voice further, “As my only guard, I need you alert—you still haven’t told me what all that was about this morning with the banana salesman, but I get the distinct impression it wasn’t just that his bananas were bad.”  
  
As she leaned back, his expression turned brooding, and he sat down heavily on the chair beside the bed. She was about to say more, but a shuffling from across the room diverted her attention. Turning her head, she saw Domidak stir from his slouched position against the wall, standing and stretching before making his way to the table where Breen had settled with a book.  
  
“Hey, mind if I join you?” he asked quietly, eyes darting curiously towards her and Link, lingering uncomfortably upon her. She looked quickly away, turning to Link with a pointed expression. He stared at her a moment longer, eying her hard, before sighing in defeat.  
  
“You know what this would look like if anyone in the castle caught wind of it,” he said seriously, quietly, holding her gaze. She swallowed hard, nodding.  
  
“I know. But…” she took a breath, feeling her heart rate quicken, “No one at the castle will ever know, so can we not simply… be people, for once? And not our positions? It makes more sense this way, and I don’t mind sharing a bed with you; its big enough for two—so long as you don’t hog the covers,” she added, an attempt at humor to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere.  
  
She didn’t know why she was fighting so hard for this. She knew he had been through worse than a night without sleep; but it felt so needless, and potentially posed a risk to their cover story. But most of all she just… wanted it; and she didn’t want to think too deeply about why.  
  
He stared at her a moment longer, a myriad emotions playing behind his eyes, before he sighed. “Alright,” he relented quietly, “Alright…”  
  
Zelda smiled softly, feeling her heart flutter as she turned to pull the covers back. She walked around to the other side as he rested his sword beside the bed against the chair, within easy arm’s reach. She sat on the side of the bed, pulling her boots off before tucking her legs under the covers and lowering herself to the pillow. She felt Link do the same beside her and once the bed stilled, she turned her head to look at him. He was lying stiffly, eyes fixed on the canopy above, a large empty space between them. His awkwardness almost made her laugh, but she withheld the urge, glad simply that he had relented.  
  
“Goodnight, Link,” she whispered softly.  
  
He turned his head towards her then, and when his eyes caught hers, for a moment, some of the stiffness seemed to bleed out of him. “Goodnight, Zelda,” He answered quietly, eyes lingering on hers a moment before turning back to face the canopy.  
  
Though her heart was drumming steadily in her chest, she smiled and closed her eyes, letting exhaustion finally wash over her. Releasing a breath, she relaxed into the lumpy mattress, and soon slipped into a deep and peaceful slumber—the first she’d had in quite some time.   
  
-:-:-:-:-:-  
  
Link stared up at the canopy keenly aware of just how close she was beside him; but he was almost falling out of the bed as it was—he couldn’t put any more space between them, though part of him desperately wished he could. Though he was exhausted from the previous night’s restlessness, he knew for himself sleep was quite a ways off.  
  
When she had told him about her little white lie to the stable master, he’d felt a myriad emotions: surprise, flattery, amusement, and a longing he very quickly suppressed. Despite his mixed feelings, he was glad she had thought so quickly on her feet, managing to avoid a potentially compromising situation; after the “banana salesman” that morning, he was beginning to think that Dorephan’s suggestion of traveling incognito was perhaps a wiser idea than either of them had realized. And though he couldn’t be sure it was a disguised Yiga assassin, his instincts told him their caution was well advised regardless.  
  
And so he was glad she had managed to come up with a good cover story, regardless of what that story was. It would help ease their passage across Hyrule, and discourage scrutiny as to their identity and purpose in traveling; but he hadn’t been prepared for everything that came after, and especially not for… this.  
  
He rolled onto his side—pointedly away from her—and released a heavy breath. He didn’t know what in the world came over him, earlier, during their card game; his mouth running away from him, he supposed. He had only wanted to help cover for her, to tighten their story as it was put under scrutiny. There had been a dozen different back stories and excuses running through his mind at the time—but Goddess help him, he had to choose that.  
  
It had been… fun, to pretend to be any ordinary traveler—any ordinary person, for a while; until they started asking questions, anyway—though he supposed it was only natural. He smiled fondly up at the canopy as he thought back to Zelda’s determinedly curious face as she watched the game from their bed—her eager smile when she got her first good hand, and her almost comical disappointment when everyone folded. She had seemed almost like… anyone, like any girl he might meet in a stable on his travels and spend some time getting to know. And perhaps that was why he had said what he said—because for a moment, just a moment, they hadn’t been Link and Zelda, they’d been Ravio and Hilda—and all the reasons why she was off-limits, why he shouldn’t do or say those things, had simply… disappeared.  
  
And, for a moment, it had felt so freeing.  
  
Though almost as soon as the words had left his lips he knew it to be reckless—and probably highly inappropriate, deep down it had felt far more satisfying than it should to say those things; to finally say aloud that she meant something to him, however disguised. He knew it was wrong, and that allowing himself to travel too far down that path would only bite him in the ass later. Part of him wished he could blame it on the one small sip of Goron Fire Whiskey he had allowed himself to appease Boldon—to simply say his judgment had been impaired; but he had no such excuse, because he’d said those things first.  
  
A friendship between them was pushing it enough already, and though he was immensely grateful for it, there was a fine line between friendship and… more than friendship; a line he was doing an increasingly poor job of toeing.  
  
Feeling agitation course through him, he turned over once more, onto his other side, and eyed her sleeping form. She lay peacefully, her braid coming undone where it lay atop her shoulder, her lips parted just slightly as her chest rose and fell rhythmically. He sighed. This was not the firm line he knew he should put between them—that little bit of distance that should always separate them. It was the polar opposite in fact; he didn’t think he could get much closer.  
  
Well, technically he could—about ten inches or so.  
  
He felt something stir in his chest at the thought, and quickly turned his gaze away from her, rolling onto his back to stare at the canopy. Closing his eyes, he willed his breathing to slow. The desire to glance at her again rose strongly within him but he shoved it back. He was… quite done glancing at her. Definitely no more glancing.  
  
She was right about one thing at least—he did need some rest. He would be no good to her tired and distracted on their journey tomorrow. With a soft grunt he rolled onto his side away from her and let out another agitated breath. Forcing his body still, he desperately willed his racing mind to stillness, praying that sleep would soon claim him—and that tomorrow would be an easier day.


End file.
